Family Tree
by Finnegans-way
Summary: Having lost Kyra and his last vestige of family, Riddick faces the all-too-familiar prospect of a life lived alone, but all of that changes when a young Furyan warrior bursts into his life. Starts at the end of TCoR.
1. Prologue

_There's another Furyan on Board…_

From her hiding place, Jasmine saw the Lord Marshall fall. She heard the snap of the blade and the dull thud as his corpse dropped to the ground. She saw the man, who in a matter of moments had dispatched the one she had trained the majority of her life to kill…and she saw them bow before him. Who _was_ this man?

He had to be Furyan…and she had to meet him.


	2. Misery Hates Company

**Disclaimer: I did not create/do not own Riddick or any of the characters from PB or TCoR. I can only take responsibility for my original characters (unfortunately :)**

* * *

"Shut down the icons and land."

Having issued the guttural order, Riddick rose from the throne. Ignoring the horde of prostrate Necromongers filling the basilica, he crossed the short distance to where Kyra's body lay. He gingerly cradled her in his arms, stood, and left the room. Just before he exited the great hall, he motioned the closest congregate with a jerk of his head. A mere waif of a girl, she scuttled over, shoulders cowed in fear.

"Where's the Lord Marshall's room?"

At the sound of his voice, she cowered even further, but she raised a thin arm and pointed up the stairs to indicate a pair of gilded double doors. He turned, taking care not to jar his precious cargo, and moved to walk away.

"My Lord?"

Riddick's head turned sharply at the foreign address. The girl practically shrunk in fear, but she ventured,

"It is customary for the new Lord Marshall to address his people. Do you not wish to –"

"No."

With that, he was gone.

Bewildered, the congregation remained for several long moments, casting furtive glances toward the stairs. When it was realized that Riddick did not intend to return, they slowly began to rise, filtering off to perform their part, if any, of his orders.

Vaako was the last to leave. He trudged slowly up the stairs, the massive weapon and his dark mood making the climb all the more difficult. As he reached the landing, he replaced the axe and turned to find his wife lying on the floor in a dead faint.

Kyra lay on the opulent bed as though sleeping. Riddick rested on one knee by her bedside, his forehead grooved with wrinkles as he studied her pale face.

"Not for me."

A deep sigh gushed from his chest as he gazed upon the chamber's lavish furnishings. Paintings adorned the walls and every spare corner held some expensive artifact. The room was a veritable museum of fallen worlds. As Riddick's silvery gaze came back to Kyra, he noticed the painting above the bed. It was a portrait of Zhylaw, stern and larger than life.

Riddick's eyes narrowed, matching stares with the harsh glare of the last Lord Marshall, and his hand came to rest upon the hilt of his ever-present shiv. His breathing picked up as he mentally relived the day. The Lord Marshall, the man who had killed all he knew without a thought, had not deserved to die so quickly. The thought made the blood boil in Riddick's veins.

With a roar, Riddick catapulted to his feet, ripped the painting from the wall, and ferociously gored the canvas. Splintering the frame with his bare hands, he sent it crashing to the floor. His next target was a delicate vase, undoubtedly rare and worth thousands. In seconds, it was reduced to mere shards. Every artifact within the room met the same fate. Wrath unabated, Riddick furiously looked about for something else to destroy.

His eyes came to rest upon the bed, and he plunged the blade into the mattress, goring it from head to foot. Only then did he pause, sinking down until he was in his original pose. His hand strayed again, this time to the tightly woven style that was Kyra's hair. Gently, his fingers freed the strands from their prison. None of it was her; the tight coif and the dark clothes were so contrary to the fiery person he had known.

_She wouldn't want to be buried in these_.

He pulled his blade again, placing it this time at the neck of her tunic. He made an experimental slit in the material, preparing to cut it down the middle. Then in a sudden, halting move, he pulled the shiv and flung it at the wall behind him.

The whoosh of the blade ended in the sound of metal through flesh and a piercing scream. Panting like an enraged bull, Riddick charged across the room to finish off the intruder. The weapon had gone completely through her right arm, impaling her to the wall. Ruthlessly, he yanked out the shiv, ignoring her second scream of pain and pressing the bloody blade against her throat. Despite the pressure on her windpipe, the young woman managed to force out a whispered,

"Wait – please."

Slowly raising a placating hand, she reached below the blade to pull down the neck of her mockodile tunic. Riddick's eyes flashed as they reflected the light of a glowing blue hand print. At the sight, her eyes widened in fear, but she continued to plead for her life.

"Please – Brother…"

_She thought of you as an older brother_.

The thought came quickly and unbidden to Riddick's mind, and he abruptly stepped back. At the sudden loss of pressure, the young woman slumped to the floor.

"You got the wrong guy."

"But – "

"Get out."

It took some effort for her to stand to her feet, but she did, holding her bleeding arm to her side as she moved toward the door. After several tries, she opened it enough to slip into the hall.

Riddick looked down at his blade, wiping it on his pant leg as he sat back against the bed. He couldn't even grieve in peace. Looking across the demolished chamber, he made his decision. In the morning he'd bury Kyra, then he'd self-destruct the ship and blow them all to Hell.


	3. Death and Life as Lord Marshall

"O Allah! Do not deprive us of the reward for patience on their loss, and do not make us subject to trail after them. In the name of Allah and with Allah, and according to the _sunnah_ of the messenger of Allah, upon whom be the blessings and peace of Allah. Allahu Akbar."

Four people stood above two plainly marked graves. Lajjun adjusted her _hijab_ and pulled her daughter, Ziza, a little closer before she spoke.

"I am so sorry, my love. There was no other Imam to say the prayers."

Riddick stood beside the pair, his expression as veiled as usual. Lajjun allowed him his silence for several moments, but then she addressed him.

"Riddick, would you say a few words? It is what they would want."

Riddick surprised her when he gave a nod. Slowly approaching the graves, he knelt and stretched out his arms until one hand rested upon each mound. He bowed his head.

"I'm sorry."

If the utterance surprised her, Lajjun did not show it. She simply mouthed a silent 'thank you' as he returned. Ziza, however, was not so easily appeased. In defiance of custom, the child ran and flung her tiny arms around Riddick's waist, sobbing openly.

"Why couldn't you save them from _these_ monsters?"

Embarrassed, Lajjun moved to collect her daughter, but Riddick held up his hand and then placed it awkwardly atop the little girl's head. Gently breaking her hold, he knelt down until he could look into her eyes.

"This time they saved me."

In her own childish way, Ziza understood, and she quietly stepped back into her mother's awaiting arms. Absently, Lajjun stroked her daughter's hair.

"You are sure that you will not stay?" she asked Riddick.

"Can't. Don't really know why you want to."

But of course, he did. The callous words were an unsuccessful attempt to ignore the truth: this was their home; he would never have one. Riddick shook his head to clear the dark thoughts. Then with a grim smile and a short nod, he turned to head for Necropolis.

Aereon waited at the respectful distance she'd kept since the beginning of the funeral. Now, as the two walked toward the ship, she asked,

"Are you ready, Lord Marshall?"

_Hmm…I'm up to my shine in civilization and you're not givin' me any distance._

"Don't call me that," was the audible answer he gave.

The Elemental left Riddick to his thoughts until the ship came into sight. Then she was forced to break the silence due to an obvious anomaly. The flight of stairs that had so recently received the feet of the last Lord Marshall were scissoring in and out of the ship. It appeared as though the stairs were malfunctioning.

"What could that possibly be?" Aereon asked as they drew closer.

Riddick did not alter his face or his tone.

"They're trying to ditch us."

Aereon gasped, "shouldn't we hurry, then?"

"Nope," he answered, keeping the same steady gait. "They can't fly with disabled gear."

* * *

Once they managed to board the ship, Riddick immediately made for the cockpit. Walking three steps to match his one, Aereon sailed along in his wake. She gave a quiet smile at his disregard of the parting of the crowd as Necromongers paid their obeisance. Aereon did not know the location of the console, but it was merely a matter of following the crowd and the sound. Barring the assembly, the group of techs working on the door and the unit of soldiers posted outside were as good as a spotlight. As the two approached the room, loud voices could clearly be heard.

"Get the armada off the ground," a man bellowed deeply.

"I will not say it again! Touch nothing or I will kill her and you as well!"

This voice was distinctly female, and at the sound Aereon gave a frustrated sigh.

"I should have known better than to leave her alone…"

At her tone, Riddick simply raised an eyebrow and waved the soldiers and the techs away. Punching a code into the panel, he watched as the door slid aside.

The situation within was so strange it was almost comical. One man lay dead, face down in a pool of rust-red blood. Next to him stood Commander Toal and the skinny, frightened helmsman. The comedy lay across the room where Vaako stood, gun aimed intermittently between Toal and the person who presently held his wife at blade-point.

The wielder of the blade was a young woman with a mane of black hair and wide, dark eyes that were presently glazed with pain. She stood between the two parties, holding a fan blade to Dame Vaako's neck with her right hand, and a short, stabbing sword in her left. Riddick immediately knew her as the young woman from the previous night. Ignoring her obvious agitation, he simply folded his arms and waited for her to speak.

"These men have committed treason." She spat out the phrase, indicating Toal and the dead body, "They planned to leave you."

Riddick smirked, surveying her disheveled appearance and the waiver in her stance.

"And you were gonna stop them with a fan and a steak knife?"

At his words, the young woman's eye smoldered with indignation. Abruptly, she withdrew her weapons and stalked out of the room, roughly bumping Aereon as she passed.

Upon closer examination, Riddick found that the corpse was The Scalp Taker. As he turned to face Toal, his shiv appeared in his hand as though by magic.

"Treason is punishable by death, My Lord. Give the order and I'll gladly do it myself."

Riddick turned, surprised to hear Vaako speak.

"Maybe you should shut the fuck up."

If possible, Vaako paled even further, but he obeyed.

Riddick then focused on Toal, who stood in proud silence, awaiting his fate. Stepping closer to him, the new Lord Marshall palmed his shiv, then replaced the blade in its hidden sheath.

"I'm not gonna kill you. It's what I would have done. Will kick you off my ship, though."

With that, he turned his back on Toal, stepping over to the console and the still-petrified helmsman. His fingers danced briefly over the controls, then he motioned the helmsman closer. When the man came near, Riddick leaned down and muttered,

"Now it'll fly. Try waiting for me next time."

The helmsman nodded furiously, and Riddick gave a soft snort of annoyance.

"I want them gone," Riddick threw over his shoulder as he left the room.

"I doubt that it matters to you, but you handled that very well," Aereon complimented as they walked down the corridor. Riddick glanced down at her.

"That yours or hers?"

Aereon followed his gaze and found the white sleeve of her gown smeared red with blood.

"She's reopened her stitches! We have to find her!"

Riddick scoffed.

"Maybe she took my advice and left."

Aereon's brow furrowed in aggravation.

"If she's anything like you," she paused, "and I know that she is, then she remains aboard the ship. The only question is where."

Riddick sighed and ran a hand across his scalp.

"If I were that messed up, I'd go to the med bay."

Aereon frowned.

"They haven't got one. I found her in a heap outside my door and stitched her up in my chamber."

Riddick's chest rose in silent laughter and he turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" Aereon called to his back.

"Someone's gotta get this heap off the ground. Good luck with round two."

His laughter was evident then, and Aereon was abruptly left to her own devices


	4. Trust and Treachery

Aereon burst breathlessly into her chamber and found Jasmine using her left hand and her teeth to tie a makeshift tourniquet around her wound. She'd managed to cut the sleeve from her borrowed tunic, but it and the rest of the shirt were soaked with blood. When the door opened, the young woman's head snapped up, the cloth of the tourniquet still between her teeth. As she appreciated Aereon's manner of dress, the material fell from her mouth and a look of utter loathing overtook her dusky features.

"Stay back," the young woman ordered, teeth clenched in intense pain.

Aereon chose to ignore the order, though after seeing the Furyan in action she knew to advance with care.

"You've lost a lot of blood. I can remedy that if you'll let me help."

As Aereon came closer, the young woman shrank back in disgust, grabbing her nearest available weapon and leaping to her feet. The action proved to be too difficult however; she swayed dizzily and the blade dropped to the floor. She would have fallen had Aereon not stepped forward and caught her.

"FuckingElementaldon'tyoufuckingtouchme," the Furyan slurred just before she passed out.

Aereon groaned, straining to bear the young woman's weight. She nearly dropped her when a deep chuckle sounded next to her ear.

"Guess you won," Riddick deadpanned, reaching around her to take the unconscious Furyan. Shrugging off the older woman's thanks, he bent deftly to catch Jasmine's knees across the crook of his elbow. He moved to drop her on Aereon's bed, but the Elemental stopped him.

"Riddick, wait. Perhaps we should move her," she paused looking around her dimly lit chamber. "My bed isn't exactly suitable."

Riddick's lips pursed as an eyebrow rose in sarcasm.

"But mine is?"

* * *

"I cannot believe you! The timing was flawless! I practically handed you the throne and you lost it to a breeder! Then you bow and scrape to him like he didn't see your attempt to kill the Lord Marshall! You were a step away from licking his boots!"

Vaako sat, barely hearing his wife's verbal assault of his manhood. His mind was far-gone, back to Crematoria and the most astounding display of power he'd ever seen. Unlike Zhylaw, Riddick was indestructible, and with that girl dead, he had no weaknesses.

"Riddick is no ordinary breeder, and he is now our Lord Marshall," Vaako finally chastised his mate. "His victory demands our loyalty."

He paused, "and he hasn't had us killed. You'd do best to remember that."

Dame Vaako seethed, "he hasn't had us killed _yet_, Husband. I'd rather not wait for him to do so. We need to act now while he is still disoriented –"

"Enough!"

Vaako was vaguely worried that those outside might hear the argument, but at the moment he was too angry to care about volume.

"You will be _silent_. Your wagging tongue has brought enough trouble to last us to Underverse! If you even so much as think the word 'treason' again, I will kill you myself."

Dame Vaako immediately obeyed, shocked at his dominant display. Vaako sank wearily into a chair, glad for the reprieve. His wife would cease for now, but he knew that it was only a matter of time before the peace was broken.

* * *

Jasmine awoke in total darkness. As her eyes snapped opened, she abruptly sat up in bed. With a metallic clang, she opened her fanblade and spread it straight out before her.

"I'd advise you to stand down," she spoke boldly to a hidden assailant, "I just finished killing two men."

"Funny, I only counted one."

Jasmine started briefly upon hearing that resonant voice, but as she saw Riddick's mark flash in the darkness, the fear quickly turned to petulance.

"Oh," she huffed. "It's you. Actually, it _was_ two men. I had to get this awful outfit from somewhere."

The thought made her chuckle briefly, but when he was silent, she continued,

"Isn't that how you got yours?"

"No. Took it off a body. I came here for the Lord Marshall, not one of his lackeys."

The rebuke caused the young woman's pride to bristle, and she quipped,

"Well, unfortunately, we don't all possess your strength of character."

His answer was a soft laugh, and the sonorous sound did something to ease Jasmine's mood. At that, she remembered that she still held her fanblade. As she lowered it, Riddick stated,

"So that _is_ a weapon."

"It is."

Riddick smiled and came closer, watching her eyes scan the darkness, ears open as she strained to sense his location.

"Our take on ancient Japanese –" she inhaled sharply when she felt a warm hand close around her wrist.

As he plucked the weapon from her fingers and released her, she snatched back her arm. The scowl upon her face was a mixture of anger at his liberty and self-condemnation for failing to sense how close he'd come. He goaded her further, asking,

"How's that arm?"

"You should know," was her fiery reply. "You're lucky you missed the artery."

"You're lucky I didn't just ghost you. Sneaking around in the dark like a merc, 'cept every merc knows that I have built-in night vision. Besides," he trailed off quietly. "The brachial isn't my artery of choice."

She sulked,

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Maybe I'll show you before you go."

Jasmine ran her tongue around the inside of her lip and gave an angry sigh.

"This isn't to say that I'm not enjoying this 'intimidation' thing, but how about we turn on a light? I prefer to see who I'm talking to."

"Have it your way. Lights to fifty percent."

The lights flared, and Jasmine screwed her eyes shut. Then opening them to mere slits, she found a dark blur that she discerned to be Riddick. Once she was able to stand the light, she confirmed the idea. As an afterthought, she glanced around the rest of the chamber and found that Riddick had a guest. In an instant, Jasmine's weapon was drawn yet again.

"Fiendish Elemental," she hissed, eyes aflame as she stared at Aereon.

Riddick turned to look at Aereon, but she merely sighed in response to his questioning gaze.

"That Elemental saved your life. I would have let you die," he stated matter-of-factly to the enraged Furyan. She looked at him as if he'd suddenly grown a third eye.

"You speak as if you do not know," she answered, disbelief coloring her voice.

In response, Riddick silently shifted his weight, and Jasmine turned to Aereon with an accusatory glare.

"Surely he knows of the massacre?"

"Yeah, I know," Riddick interjected.

Now, it was Jasmine's turn to be confused. Turning until her brown eyes rested upon her Furyan brother, she continued,

"And the Elemental Kenevar's treachery?"

Beneath his goggles, Riddick blinked, intrigued. Moving towards the bed, he sat down on edge of the mattress.

"Tell me."


	5. Tales Told and Secrets Shown

Unconsciously, Jasmine sat a little straighter. Slowly fingering her weapon, she began her story.

"You know that thirty years ago a rash of Furyan infants were killed in the span of one night, along with many who tried to protect them. What you don't know is that we and Zhylaw's horde were not the only people on planet. There was also an envoy of Elementals led by a man called Kenevar. They had arrived several days earlier on what they called an emissary of friendship."

She cast another withering glance at Aereon. "Some friends they turned out to be. The night of the massacre, the Elementals fled. We did not expect them to stand and fight. Everyone knows that their kind knows nothing of battle, but when we asked – when we begged that they help some of our people escape, mothers and children specifically, they refused."

As the ghastly tale continued, Riddick saw Jasmine's eyes gloss and knew she was reliving the memory.

"They knew we were defenseless. The first thing Zhylaw did was destroy our entire fleet. Our ships that were off planet were not near enough to return to help. Their ship certainly could not have taken us all, but they could have saved many. Fucking neutrality – babies, helpless children, strangled with their own birth cords, people drowning in their own blood –"

The words ended in a hoarse, mangled cry, and Jasmine flung her weapon at Aereon with all of her might. The weapon split the steel wall like wood, lodging itself above the Elemental's head and causing the woman to jerk in surprise. Riddick remained solid as stone, merely turning his head to observe the embedded fanblade. Turning to look across the chamber, he asked,

"That true?" and Aereon knew he was addressing her.

"More or less," Aereon replied, voice and visage blank.

Jasmine continued quietly, as though nothing had just occurred. She placed her hand beneath her collarbone, fisting it over her mark. It began glowing so brightly that the others could see the light through her shirt. Her tear filled eyes became distant again.

"This mark is the anger of our people, but it is also the remembrance. I have lived and relived the massacre. I see the horror as if I am there, though it happened years before I was born. For all who are born Furyan, the mark carries the memory of that night."

As suddenly as she'd launched into the tale, Jasmine's eyes cleared, then clouded in contempt as they came to rest upon Aereon. Slowly, she pushed aside the bed cover and stood. As she moved resolutely toward the Elemental, the older woman glanced hurriedly at Riddick; he watched, motionless. Aereon was in no danger, however. Jasmine simply reached above her head, pulling the fanblade free with a soft grunt.

"You need not fear me, Elemental. I would never exert myself to spill your lukewarm blood. We find your tepid existence more nauseating than galling."

Jasmine turned her back to return to the bed, but she stopped when she heard the rustle of Aereon's delicate garment. When she turned back, the Elemental was standing, returning her gaze fearlessly.

"Would it alleviate your nausea to hear that Kenevar is currently leading a mission to find and aid new Furya?"

In response, the young woman raised her brows, drenching her face in irony.

"And only thirty years too late. His paltry attempt to assuage his guilt will not stop us from spilling his blood. I hope he is successful in his search."

Then dismissing any further conversation, Jasmine returned to sit opposite Riddick. Looking down at her bandaged limb, she gave a deep sigh.

"I am sorry to have shattered your ignorance so suddenly."

"Are you?"

Though his response was deadpan, Jasmine felt the sting of his words. How was she ever to reach him?

She didn't get another chance to try; before she could formulate a response, he stood and left the room. Aereon had already slipped out in her silent way, and Jasmine found herself alone.

Purposefully, Riddick strode down the hall, his chest surging in and outward, his face a mask of rage. Necromongers raced to remove themselves from his path. They bowed, but made sure to do so from a very safe distance. Furiously Riddick scanned the ship for a hallway, an empty room, someplace where he could just take a minute to yell, to break something, to breathe.

_This is too fucking much._

It was way too much to be handed in the course of a mere twenty-four hours. Riddick finally stopped, leaning on a railing that overlooked the first level of Necropolis. His ragged, panicked breathing soon slowed to normal, and he scrubbed a hand across his stubbly scalp. As he stood, he finally thought of a safe haven; it was the quietest place on the ship, albeit the most disturbing. Coming off of the railing, he turned toward the stairs, his feet naturally heading to the Quasi-grotto.

The sound of his boots echoed off the walls as Riddick stepped into the mystical realm of the Quasi-dead. Safely stowed in their rollaway iron pods, the creatures were no threat, but nonetheless, Riddick advanced carefully. After testing the platform with one foot, Riddick sank until he rested upon the edge. He ran a hand across the surface, comforted by the coolness of the metal. Again and again he brushed the plane until he felt his mind begin to go blank. It was like making a shiv; everything else faded out except the feeling of it. At that moment nothing else mattered, nothing else was real.

_The only thing you can trust._

Weapons were predictable. The worst thing that ever happened to a shiv was that it had to be sharpened. Civilization, though, did whatever the hell it wanted. You put yourself out there and people let you down, told you things you didn't want to hear. People died – no matter how much they meant to you. And now someone was asking him to do it again.

"I'm done playing hero," the words came as a whisper. He had some business to finish, but then –

"The view is much better up here."

The dulcet tones floated down from above and Riddick was instantly on his feet, weapon in hand. Upon further examination, he sheathed his knife; it was only Dame Vaako. Looking up at her he replied,

"You don't wanna be near me right now."

She disappeared from his sight, but he heard the changing echoes of her voice as she descended a flight of hidden stairs.

"Are you afraid you'll do me harm, my Lord?"

The address was a honey-coated purr. She emerged onto the platform and Riddick widened his stance.

"I'm thinkin' about it…"

His blunt response seemed to thrill rather than frighten her, and she gave a soft laugh as she came nearer.

"But I know you would never harm those who pose no threat to you. What danger does a lone woman present?"

She came closer and Riddick suddenly was winded. He'd registered the scented oil she'd massaged into her skin and it was practically intoxicating, especially to a man as keen as he. Dame Vaako's eyes were suddenly alight, and she smirked.

"Do you like it?" she slowly circled his frame. "Unfortunately, it's wasted on my husband. Purification dulls the nerves and the senses." She posited a slender hand upon his shoulder, slowly trailing her fingers down to his chest. "Some more than others."

She looked up at him, batting her eyes seductively.

"I'll bet you don't have that problem."

His chuckle was impossibly deep.

"That an invitation?"

Dame Vaako returned the laugh, and her other hand joined the first. Lowering her voice to an intense whisper, she replied,

"The Lord Marshall need not be invited. He merely takes what he wants."

Riddick rumbled his approval of the philosophy.

"Not a bad way to live. In that case," his strong hands latched onto her hips and pulled her flush against him, one hand sliding upward to grip the back of her head. He lowered his head until his breath fanned across her face and she parted her lips in anticipation.

"I'm taking a rain check."

He released her as quickly as he'd grabbed her and she gasped in anger.

"You should do something about that cut on your neck," were his last words as he stepped out of the grotto.

Dame Vaako's fingers flew to the cut; her anger burned anew as she thought of the sudden appearance of that barbaric young woman. That Kyra had been his near undoing the once. If she herself could not tempt him, then perhaps this beastly girl could serve a similar purpose...

As Riddick moved toward the basilica he chuckled inwardly, and for anyone who cared to notice, his steps were noticeably lighter.

Just as Riddick had supposed, sitting on the Lord Marshall's throne had immediately summoned a bevy of attendants. They knelt before him expectantly. Rising from the seat, Riddick scanned the group until he found a familiar face: that of the waif-like woman who'd been the first to address him.

"You."

She knew of whom he spoke and rose gracefully, approaching the throne as the other servants made room, head perpetually bowed.

"Yes, Lord Marshall?"

"Get everybody in here. I'm gonna make that address now."

The servants gasped as one.

"My Lord! Aside from you, the honor of calling an assembly is reserved for the Sahbas – the head of your personal attending staff," the girl indicated to her right, "that would be Jerrin."

Riddick glanced at the nondescript gentleman and then back at the girl.

"Then consider yourself promoted."

At his statement, she turned, wide-eyed, to see a silently irate Jerrin. She sputtered,

"But My Lord, you can't simply –"

"I _can't_?"

His response stopped her in her tracks and she reassumed her subservient posture.

"Obedience without question, My Lord. I am sorry."

Riddick shook his head dismissively.

"Fine. Just do it."

As the young woman hurried off, Riddick left for the main console. The ship's captain and crew leapt to their feet upon his entrance. Disconcerted by the ceremony, Riddick folded his arms and gave a short nod.

"Head for Underverse. Now."

* * *

The assembly signal had begun to sound before he'd even reached the cockpit, and by the time he returned to the basilica it was nearly full. In the shadows, he saw Aereon calmly observing the crowd. The servant girl stood in her new place behind the throne, close enough to be summoned and far enough to be ignored. Vaako stood with the soldiers, and his wife lurked somewhere beyond Riddick's sight.

When he was satisfied with the turnout, Riddick descended the stairs and dropped into his chair. As he was seated, everyone bowed ceremoniously, faces nearly to the ground. His lips pursed in obvious disdain, and then he spoke.

"I've got good news. We won't be dealin' with each other for long. I'm taking you straight to Underverse. Gotta pick someone up, then you'll never have to see me again. Until then, you stay off my back and I stay off yours. No more conquests, I don't give a shit about your campaign."

He saw the confused faces amongst the crowd, and grinned to himself.

"I want to meet with the officers in two hours. That's all."

The people were quicker to disperse this time, and Riddick glanced over his shoulder at the servant. She appeared, kneeling beside the throne silently.

"Do you people eat?" Riddick asked.

She replied the affirmative

"What about showers?"

"Of course we bathe!" she exclaimed, slightly offended, but then she rose and turned to several of the lesser attendants.

"Please inform the chefs," she asked softly.

As they left to do her bidding, she turned back to Riddick.

"I'll come to your chamber directly, My Lord."

He raised an eyebrow, leading her to clarify.

"You've promoted me; I assume that you'll want to reselect an entirely new staff. Until you do, it is the duty of the Sahbas to see to all of your personal needs. That would include drawing your bath," her words trailed off and she would have blushed if not for the constant pallor.

Riddick was too distracted by his hunger to respond in his normal, sarcastic way.

"Fine. Just give me a minute."

She nodded, and he stepped down from the throne.

As he turned to leave, he had a final remark.

"Two hours, Aereon. I want you there."

The Elemental glided out into the light, graciously accepting his peace offering with a soft smile.

"As you wish, Riddick."

He looked toward the staircase and blinked. Jasmine stood on the balcony, looking down in disgust. Their eyes locked, and she boldly held his gaze before turning her back and disappearing into his chamber. As was the apparent norm, no one had seen her, and Riddick headed silently to the room. If she knew what was good for her, she'd keep her mouth shut this time.

When Riddick entered his chamber, he found Jasmine sitting on the bed, forlornly examining the ripped and severed sleeve of her own garment. The shirt was buckskin, the color of rich chocolate. She looked up, eyes following him as he walked past the bed.

"I assume the Elemental did this."

Riddick shrugged, glad she'd chosen not to remark on what she'd seen.

"I'm not big on sleeves."

Jasmine did not hear the humor in his voice, and she looked at him sadly.

"This is my favorite shirt. It's my mother's."

Though she couldn't see it, Riddick rolled his eyes.

"I'm sure that Mommy can make you a new one."

Jasmine shook her head.

"No, she can't. She's dead."

Now that was an answer he hadn't expected to hear.

"Hmm." _She's an orphan…like me._

Riddick bit the inside of his cheek, feeling something akin to indignity. He walked over to the bed, and reached out his hand for the cloth. When she gave it to him, he rubbed his thumb over the material, appreciating its softness before he said,

"I can fix this."

Jasmine's eyes grew wide in disbelief.

"_You_ sew?"

"I stitch up my own skin."

He fingered the material again, his lips curling in a smirk as he finished,

"But you're gonna have to take it off."

Rather than reacting in the volatile way he'd come to expect, Jasmine merely reached for the hem of her shirt, meeting his eyes the entire time. He took an inaudible breath as she slowly lifted the garment, to reveal…another shirt. She allowed herself a brief laugh at his disappointed expression.

"Armor is too noisy for an assassin. Layers are the next best thing," she said in explanation.

Riddick nodded. He certainly understood that.

"Well," he answered, stretching his arms taut over his head, "_I'm_ not wearing an undershirt. He proved it, peeling his tank top over his head and dropping it on the floor. Jasmine's eyes widened and she clapped a hand over her mouth, turning her head in an attempt to hide the flush racing up her neck and onto her face. That brief glimpse had been enough to undo her completely.

"Awfully skittish for a warrior…Jasmine." He rumbled, mercilessly, grinning at her loss of composure.

Her head snapped toward him, though she averted her eyes.

"I never told you my name," the statement was saturated in curiosity.

"Jasmine Kyder, warrior of the Lion clan, leader of the Furies," he continued as he knelt down to untie his boots, "You kept saying it after you passed out. Not good for a soldier – givin' up intel so easy."

Divested of his shoes, he padded towards the bed, stating,

"Lights to ten percent," and removing his goggles. He sat beside her, reveling in the uptake and hitch of her breathing. Their marks began to glow softly, and he could see the outline through her thin shirt. Slowly, he raised his hand, reaching out to trace her mark, but she put her own hand there before he could. He shrugged, lying back to look at the star-studded ceiling and grinning at the whooshing sound of her relieved sigh.

"Riddick?" she asked softly, testing out the sound of his name.

"Yeah?"

"Wouldn't you like to know who your mother is?"

The bed rustled briefly as he sat up, taking the complete subject change in stride.

"She's probably dead, or I'm dead to her. Either way it doesn't matter."

"But, there isn't a man alive who given the chance, wouldn't want to know who he is."

"Been all right so far. But speaking of, what are you? Never heard of a Fury before."

Jasmine's smile was one of intense pride.

"I took the name from mythology. The avenging goddesses of justice. We're a squadron of woman warriors; I'm the commander."

Riddick scoffed,

"Right."

He saw her brow furrow in consternation.

"Why? You've seen me fight!"

"I've seen you attack two unarmed women."

"And the officer I killed?"

"Didn't actually _see_ that."

Jasmine shook her head in disbelief.

"You try to kill me, and then you mock me."

Riddick sighed.

"So what's the point of your little club?"

"Point? It was necessary. When Zhylaw killed the men, the women became warriors. We are some of the most elite fighters on Furya. We supplemented the army - We were going to find Zhylaw and take revenge."

"So they won't need you anymore."

"There is always something to fight for."

Riddick grunted in agreement, and then a knock came upon the door. Regretfully, Riddick called for lights and replaced his goggles. He opened the door to see the servant girl, and food.

"We realized that we'd neglected to ask what you'd like. So they've made you a bit of everything. May I enter, My Lord?"

Riddick stepped back and held open the door. Demurely, she entered, directing the laden tables to an empty spot into the chamber. A horde of delectable scents hit him at once, and Riddick winced as his stomach clenched painfully. From her place on the bed, Jasmine felt her own stomach rumble in concert.

The sound caught the attention of the servant girl, and she studied Jasmine curiously. The Furyan regarded her equally, assessing her threat or lack thereof. When the food was in place, she dismissed the servants and turned to face Riddick, glancing briefly over her shoulder at Jasmine.

"Let me know if anything displeases you, and it won't be served again."

He nodded and made a beeline for the food.

The girl withdrew, presumably to prepare a bath, and Jasmine came over to the table, stopping Riddick before he could bite into the leg of some type of fowl.

"Wait. It may not be safe."

He smirked,

"Are you volunteering to taste it for me?"

"Hell no. But you should get someone to."

To Jasmine's dismay, Riddick took a ferocious bite of the meat. Ignoring decorum in his ravenous hunger, he spoke with his mouth full.

"Don't worry. One thing I'll give the Necros – they wanna kill you, they do it to your face."

Jasmine gave a relieved sigh and sat down. When she reached for a plate, Riddick clamped his hand over her wrist.

"I didn't invite you to dinner."

She scoffed, too hungry to be polite, "You can't possibly eat all of this by yourself. And besides, I'll be no use to you if I starve to death."

He thought back to his thwarted attempt.

"You're no use to me now."

She grumbled, "so like a man," and took a bite of the food.

The girl reappeared as they ate, and moved imperceptibly to Riddick's side.

"My Lord?"

He stopped, annoyed at the interruption. She approached him cautiously,

"If I may suggest, and please don't be offended," she paused, " this concubine you've brought will be quite beautiful once she's purified, but we have women already set aside for your use. They are professionally trained to see to your needs."

As she was turned away from Jasmine, she couldn't see the rage that overtook the woman warrior, but Riddick found the entire situation quite amusing.

"I'll have to look into that, but for now I'll make do with her," Riddick did well camouflaging his mirth, but as Jasmine's nostrils flared it became nearly impossible.

"Very well."

As an afterthought, she moved toward the table, removing the cover off one of the dishes.

"These are paùron livers, one of the best known sources of iron in the universe. With that wound, they will do her some good."

Riddick nodded his thanks, and she took her leave. Before she was gone however, she turned back to state,

"The identity of a lowly servant is certainly of no consequence to the Lord Marshall, but I am merely considering how convenient it would be to summon me if you could refer to me by name."

Riddick blinked as he realized he'd never asked the girl's name. He nodded for her to continue.

"It's Mara, My Lord. I'll return to accompany you to your audience with the officers."

The door clicked behind her, and Riddick turned to observe his dinner companion. She skidded backward, dishes clattering as she banged the table in her haste to retreat.

"If I'm to die at the hand of a tribesman then so be it, but I won't do this thing!" She yelled, springing to stand on the bed, fanblade in hand and the sword appearing from it's hiding place behind the headboard. "Prepare for the fight of your life."

At that, Riddick laughed, deeply and powerfully, for the first time in days. He saw that she could not discern the reason for his laughter, but found her confusion far too enjoyable to correct. Instead, he walked into the bathroom.

He was gone for some time, and when he returned he was freshly bathed and clothed, toweling down his still bare chest, goggles in place, face the blank mask it normally was. Jasmine remained as he'd left her, standing wild-eyed on the bed, weapons drawn. She leered,

"You race to battle the half-dead, but you cannot approach a woman who can fight back?"

Riddick chose to ignore her again as he returned to the sumptuous meal the servants had brought.

"They don't do blood transfusions around here, so you're just gonna have to wait until your liver makes up the difference. I suggest you rest - you're gonna feel like shit for a while."

At the response, her weapons immediately came down, though she was still perplexed.

"So you don't plan to –"

"If the Necros think you're mine, they won't touch you."

"I do not need your protection!"

Riddick was beside her in an instant. He wrapped a hand in her thick hair, forcing her to her knees. As he strode toward the door, Jasmine was dragged from the bed and across the ground, screaming and cursing the whole way. Abruptly, he pulled open the door and yanked the girl to her feet. She beheld the soldiers posted outside and the patrolling squadron marching past.

"I could hand you over to them. Think you could take'em all?"

Fisting his hand in her hair, he jerked her head back to growl directly into her ear.

Jasmine panted vehemently through her clenched teeth, but remained silent, and he finally let her go, returning to his seat. She slammed the door shut, taking deep breaths to calm herself.

"So you're saying I can stay?" she asked after a moment.

Riddick sighed in consternation.

"Until you heal. But after that you're gonna have to run away from home somewhere else."

"What did you say?"

"You're runnin' from something. The fear's all over you."

"You know _nothing_ about me," she hissed, adrenaline still coursing through her blood.

"For now," he replied matter-of-factly, then casually, "there's enough water in there for another bath."

Wisely, the girl remained silently, merely heading for the bathroom.

"Jasmine," the resonant voice bid her to stop.

She turned to look at him and he continued,

"When I have you, it'll be 'cause you want me to."


	6. Your Rightful Place

Riddick took another look at the clock and smirked to himself. An hour had passed, and Jasmine had yet to finish her bath. He glanced at the lavatory's closed door.

"You almost done in there?"

The girl's answer was muffled, but he could make out a few choice words.

"You wanted to fight me to the death an hour ago. Where's your courage now?"

The door opened in response, and Jasmine appeared, clothed in an oversized black silk bathrobe that had been laid out, presumably, for him. She fingered the tie on the robe and looked up at him through the curtain of her lashes.

"It takes more than empty threats to frighten me," she snapped. "I had to wash the blood out of my shirt. It's not dry yet."

"Those the only clothes you have?"

"What's wrong with my clothes?"

"They won't cut it. I need them to take you seriously."

Jasmine took a hesitant step into the chamber.

"You need _who_ to take me seriously?"

Rather than answer, Riddick moved toward the room's massive desk and pressed a button on the console. Mara appeared momentarily and stood waiting for his command.

"How soon can you have her ready?"

Mara pursed her lips and walked toward Jasmine, circling the girl slowly.

"Will that include her purification, my Lord?"

Riddick growled under his breath.

"No. Just clothes."

"Half an hour. I can have something altered for her tonight, and then we'll have her fitted for a full wardrobe in the morning. Will that suffice?"

He nodded and stood, slipping a knife into his boot as he headed for the door.

"Thank you. Let me know when you're done."

"Yes, my Lord."

Mara left to summon assistance; as Riddick moved to follow, Jasmine called his name. He turned to stare at her wearily.

"Don't I have a right to know what I'm preparing for?" she asked.

He flexed his shoulders.

"Officers' meeting. According to their law, you're my newest commander."

Jasmine's jaw dropped, but then she sighed and threw up her hands.

"I guess that's better than being your concubine."

His lips pursed briefly as though he might speak, but Jasmine interjected,

"You don't need to worry about me 'disrespecting' you in front of those men. I'll play the part."

"You and me both, sister," Riddick answered, moving aside as Mara returned. He let her pass adding, "put her in something thin. I want her mark to show."

Mara looked at him quizzically, but Riddick left Jasmine to explain. With a sigh, Jasmine pulled aside her robe to reveal the flash of blue light. The servant's eyes grew wide as saucers, but training had conditioned her to keep silent. Instead, she stepped closer, pulled out a measure, and began assessing Jasmine's size.

It was a miniscule number who met Riddick at the war module-simulator. Above the table, a molten model of the Helion system floated benignly. As Riddick reached the simulator, Aereon inclined her head and his remaining two commanders snapped to attention.

He made a shooing motion with his hand, and the men returned to their original positions. The table followed, presenting its flat metallic surface. Aereon came to stand at his side and Riddick looked across the table at Vaako and his colleague.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I am called Scales," the pale man replied.

Riddick nodded and glanced at Vaako before continuing,

"I've got a problem." He paused, "When I ordered the helmsman to head for Underverse, he informed me that the Lord Marshall is the only man who knows the coordinates. I'd call it a sorry piece of trickeration if I didn't know he was scared shitless of me."

The thought made him smirk.

"So…I ain't stupid enough to believe that only one man would know something that important – which leaves me with the next link in the food chain, the two of you."

The commanders looked confused, then worried, then confused again. Vaako was the first to answer.

"My Lord, the helmsman answered truthfully, but he was likely too afraid to explain himself. The Lord Marshall is the only _person_ who knows, but the Quasi-dead are the true keepers of the Great Secret. The system was created to enforce our creed of absolute loyalty…and to prevent any preemptive attempts to reach Underverse."

Despite himself, Riddick shivered.

"Fine – I'll go talk to them."

"Sir, the Quasi-deads have yet to acknowledge your new position." Scales spoke this time. "They won't recognize you as Lord Marshall until after your ceremony – and the former Lord Marshall's first funeral rites," he added after a pause.

Frustrated, Riddick gritted his teeth.

"And how long will _that_ take?"

Back in Riddick's chamber, a team of servants worked furiously to dress a very uncooperative Jasmine. After a period of negotiation (and the utter lack of another choice), the young Furyan was arrayed in a dress of deep green complete with a divided skirt that allowed for some movement.

The young woman had refused all jewelry; a sword, strapped to her back, and the infamous fan were her chosen accessories. She'd allowed them to brush her hair back from her face, but she'd drawn the line there, barring makeup completely.

"And you will _not_ be burning off my eyelashes while I yet live and breathe," she growled, and the servants finally surrendered. Mara dismissed them and stepped outside the door, signaling to Riddick that her work was complete. Upon his nod, she stepped back inside.

"They're ready for you, my lady," the girl stated, and then she opened the door, indicating the proper direction with her free hand. Jasmine held her fan by her side and passed through the doorway, back as straight as a ramrod, eyes fearless.

The walk to the simulator felt much longer than it was, but soon Jasmine reached it. She stood silently, observing the commanders and conspicuously ignoring the Elemental. Though Vaako's eyes flashed in recognition, all the men's eyes flashed in admiration.

Riddick let the effect sink in, gauging the commanders' reactions as the handprint glowed through the gossamer material of Jasmine's dress.

"Jasmine is my guest," Riddick broke the silence, "and now a fellow commander. She'll be my eyes while I'm gone. The Scalp Taker can vouch for her abilities."

Jasmine's eyes flickered to his, then to the commanders, worried that Riddick was provoking them. The bald one looked to be having a jaw spasm, but no one voiced a protest. She loosened her grip on the fan.

Riddick finished,

"Once I get back, I'll drop you off and we can get back to our lives – or un-lives," he drawled sardonically. "Get them started on the funeral and I'll let you know when I'm ready. That's all."

Vaako and Scales strode away, silently. Aereon followed after quietly reminding Riddick that she was at his disposal. As the final two returned to Riddick's chamber, Jasmine drew up beside Riddick. Concern stole over her features as they walked. Something was troubling him, and the meeting was undoubtedly the cause.

Mara rushed ahead to open the door, but Riddick held up his hand.

"I've got it from here."

Mara looked perplexed.

"But your companion's garment fastens up the back. Will you need my assistance to –"

"I can handle that too. We'll see you in the morning."

Carefully, Jasmine kept her face blank, intending to deal with him once they were behind closed doors. The second the doors were shut, she exclaimed,

"Explain yourself. Now."

"You don't wanna get out of that dress? It looks uncomfortable."

He moved to stand behind her, but she turned to continue facing him.

"Riddick, I know very little about you, but I can tell when a man is stalling. What did they say before I arrived?"

Riddick sighed slowly and Jasmine turned to present her back, gathering her curtain of dark hair and moving it to rest over her shoulder. Riddick needed no further invitation, moving to confront the complicated series of gold hooks lining the spine of Jasmine's dress.

"Maybe I should have let her do this."

They shared a laugh and the tension was momentarily broken.

"I'm sure you've done this before," was the young woman's retort.

She reached for his hand, guiding it to the small of her back. As he began his work there was a pause in her breathing, but she collected herself enough to say,

"Tell me."

Her encouragement was soft and the dress was a welcome distraction.

"I have to get purified."

Whatever the mood, it was instantly broken as Jasmine whirled again to face him.

"What?"

Riddick frowned, turning Jasmine so he could resume unfastening the dress. With a calm that was borderline eerie, he continued,

"They told me the first thing a Lord Marshall has to do is take a pilgrimage to the gates of Underverse. Fine by me, but the only way I can find Underverse is if I get the coordinates from the Quasi-dead. They only give the coordinates to the Lord Marshall –"

"Which is what you are…or did they miss the fact that you killed the –"

Frustrated with the repeated interruptions, Riddick did the first thing he could think of to quiet her. He'd managed to open a few of the dress's fastenings, so he reached inside, flattening his palm against Jasmine's lower back. Her bare skin was warm, malleable to the touch and his hand moved forward until his fingers dug into the curve of her hip.

He could feel her pulse pounding into his fingertips, her entire torso heaving with each strangled breath. Lightly, his hand skimmed across her abdomen, then he mercifully withdrew, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. As the young woman gasped for air, he deftly unfastened the scabbard strapped to her posterior, tossing it and the sword onto his bed.

"The Quasi-deads produce some kind of chemical that the Lord Marshall has injected in his system. He's the only one who's got it, so he's marked for them as the true leader. The only way to get it is through some special purification."

Jasmine would have spoken again, but he placed a fingertip against her spine.

"I already asked. They can't just give me a shot. The chemical goes in the nerves, not the blood. Purification's the only way."

They were both silent then. Eventually, Riddick finished opening the dress. Jasmine thanked him and disappeared into the bathroom. She returned wearing her original clothes, and sank to sit beside Riddick on the bed.

"You're not just after the power. You're going to retrieve _her_," Jasmine finally said. She huffed noncommittally.

"Riddick, I'm sorry, but Kyra is dead. We above all people know that the dead cannot be returned to us in this life. Your only option is to honor her memory by moving on."

With each second of his continued silence, her anger grew until she was yelling.

"You must release her! That portal is one-way! You've been given a great gift, the chance to be reunited with your _true_ family. You've nothing to gain by chasing a ghost. Come home, Riddick…with me."

"This wouldn't be the first impossible thing I've done," was his resolute response.

Jasmine heard his determination and turned her back, leaning down to rest her forehead atop her interlocked fingers. Riddick interpreted her response as resignation and continued,

"They'll have funeral games while I'm gone. They're competing for Toal's place – pretty simple stuff. Between you and Aereon," he ignored her sigh of revulsion, "it should be easy enough to manage. Will you do it?"

"Perhaps I should accompany you."

"You can't. Now, will you do it?"

"If you manage to do this, you won't come back."

He shrugged.

"I do like havin' an army, but you're right. I don't need it."

They locked eyes.

"Look, I don't like havin' to trust you, but I'm doin' it. You have to trust me too."

After a moment of thought, Jasmine finally acquiesced.

"All right, but I ask for one condition. Sleep on it. If in the morning you feel the same, you will have my full support."

"Now who's stalling?"

Jasmine gave a sheepish smile, threading her fingers through her hair. She took a hesitant breath, tilting her head.

"I could make it worth your while," she stated plainly after a long moment, biting her lip.

Riddick shook his head and stood, smiling ruefully.

"Nice try, but you don't mean it. I should get some sleep, though."

She looked alarmed when he approached her, but he merely grabbed a pillow and dropped it on the floor. As he lay down, she slid across the bed to observe him, perplexed.

"That's a bit drastic isn't it? You aren't worried that I'll try to take advantage of _you_?" she asked, half-jokingly.

He turned onto his side, replying,

"Spend enough nights in Slam or on the run and a bed will feel uncomfortable to you too."

His statement was matter-of-fact, but it left Jasmine stricken. Respectfully, she opted to leave him in peace, but as she lay down to try and sleep, her thoughts were far from peaceful.


	7. Gods and Devils

When Riddick awoke, his bed was empty. Rapidly, his gleaming eyes scanned the darkness to no avail. The corner of his mouth twitched, landing somewhere between a smirk and a grimace. Apparently the girl had finally taken his advice and left.

This _is why I work alone_.

Slowly he stood, reaching for his greaves and strapping one around his forearm. His manner was efficient as ever, but his mood was portrayed despite it, in the slight hunch of his shoulders, the uncharacteristic pause between examining his favorite shiv and strapping it to his side. His eyes had never deceived him. Jasmine was nowhere to be seen.

His ears however…

Riddick froze where he sat. Another second of listening revealed the sound of someone else's breath, and strangely, the sound of muffled tears. Quickly he stood, walking around the bed to view the other side.

Sure enough, Jasmine lay prostrate on the floor, face cradled in her open palms. Her form quivered as she tried to quell another sob. Riddick frowned, a mass of lines marring his brow.

"You fall out of bed?" he asked gruffly.

With a gasp and a start, Jasmine turned over and sat up. In the darkness, Riddick was no more than a voice and two gleaming silvery pinpoints, but he was more than fearsome to behold. She hurriedly swabbed at her face with both hands, but it was useless. Her tear trails were luminescent to Riddick's shined eyes.

"Funny – you didn't strike me as the 'tearful farewell' type."

Jasmine scowled as his tone.

"I wasn't crying," she said hurriedly, then spoke to cover the obvious lie, "I was…praying."

Riddick's head fell back as he rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Can't seem to get away from you people! You know, I think the temple is actually in the other direction –"

"I am _not_ Muslim," she replied, offended at his assumption. "Any self-respecting Furyan prays to Zurmàgen."

Angered by his silence, she called for lights. He replaced his goggles and sat.

"Guess it's story-time again," he groaned.

In response, she stated simply, "Jehovah, the rock and the shield." After a moment, she continued, "You obviously don't care, but you might be interested to know that He's given me a solution to our problem."

"_Our_ problem?"

"You've certainly made it mine. Will you hear my proposition?"

At the word "proposition," Riddick raised an eyebrow, but then he nodded silently.

"Let me go in your place."

Riddick's response was one she'd yet to see. All at once, his features seemed to soften, his mouth falling slightly open. Though she couldn't see his eyes, she felt her chest clench painfully, and she was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to hug him. She took a step forward, but just as suddenly, Riddick answered,

"No."

She paused, unsure of what he was refusing.

"I…I don't understand…"

"I already told you how you're gonna to help me."

"And I'll do as you ask, but let me do this as well. Consider it proof of my loyalty. I'll take the procedure, go before the Quasi-deads and then deliver the secret. You'll have your coordinates."

"And you'll have my gratitude?"

Jasmine blinked, confused, as she heard Riddick chuckle. The chuckles soon turned to loud laughter. When he was finally able to collect himself, he continued,

"So much for your God. I came to that exact solution last night – on my own. And I'll do you one better."

He walked over to the console. Momentarily, a knock sounded at the door. At Riddick's nod, Jasmine went to answer. She was greeted by a smiling Mara and a train of male and female servants. At Jasmine's inquisitive glance, Mara replied,

"This is a day of days, My Lady. The Lord Marshall will require far more than my assistance to prepare for such an auspicious occasion. And you as well," she added merrily.

Silently, Jasmine opened the door to its fullest extent. As the throng entered, Riddick moved to stand at Jasmine's side. Jerking his head toward an adjoining chamber he said,

"You can dress her there."

Despite Jasmine's confusion, Mara understood, directing the rest of the female servants to attend to Jasmine. As they led her away, she heard Riddick call Mara back. She tried to remain, but it was like fighting the tide.

Looking over the crowd, Riddick beheld Jasmine's distress, but he merely wet his lips, turning to quietly address his head servant.

"Mara, how would you feel about another promotion?"

* * *

Jasmine put up no resistance as she was dressed, merely wincing as her hair was pulled up and away from her face. Her mind raced furiously in a vain attempt to decipher Riddick's cryptic words. Surely he would not consort with one of these vile –

"My Lady, will you be wearing your…uh… sword, to the ceremony?"

The nameless servant's question ripped Jasmine from her thoughts; she nodded absently, holding out her arms so the servants could strap the scabbard around her shoulders. Her preparation completed, she led the way back into the main room.

Riddick was still surrounded by attendants. Jasmine noted that the ship's armourers had been extremely busy. The new Lord Marshall was arrayed in a unique suit of armor that fit his muscular form perfectly. It shone with the brightest silver, complementing the flash of Riddick's distinctive eyes unveiled.

He was absolutely matchless.

On the table lay the last piece of the ensemble: a heavily filigreed helmet etched with caricatures of faces. Jasmine stared at the visage nearest her; it bore the eyeless stare of Zhylaw the Last.

With a quick perusal of the room, Jasmine noted that Mara was attempting to match Riddick's glow. She stood aside from the group, but her countenance was practically alight. Jasmine instantly knew what Riddick had done.

"My Lady, the Lord Marshall has given you the honor of bearing the helmet to the basilica."

Jasmine glanced sideways at Mara, who had appeared beside her. The Furyan frowned. Carrying the helmet would deny her use of her hands during a time where an ambush was quite likely. He had relegated her to an armor bearer. What he truly needed was a bodyguard who could be trusted.

Her eyes flashed up to meet his. He caught her gaze and shook his head slowly. It was just as well. She didn't care in the least about the helmet's priceless craftsmanship or the fact that it could break into a thousand pieces: if trouble came, she was going to drop it.

"I see the Lord Marshall has 'honored' you as well," Jasmine finally answered.

Despite herself, the Furyan could not mask the wounded look that crossed her features. He'd made her feel so silly for her lack of trust, but he'd so easily placed their lives in the hands of the enemy.

Mara nodded mutely, too overwhelmed to articulate her boundless wonder. A sheen of tears glinted in her eyes and she swallowed thickly.

"Why the Lord Marshall would show regardless for a worthless dog such as I is beyond my comprehension."

A tear escaped her eye then, but it was dashed away in an instant. Just as quickly, Mara exited with the other female attendants.

Jasmine stared after her in confusion. She certainly didn't _seem_ like the treacherous type. Then again, a foe was at its most deadly when underestimated.

Waiting for her chance to speak to Riddick, Jasmine busied herself with a final examination of the weapons she carried. Aside from the sword, she'd surreptitiously slipped a set of throwing knives beneath her bodice. She would have preferred the use of a gun, but she did not wish to be so obvious.

"Give us a minute."

At Riddick's command, the servants vanished. Jasmine looked across the room at him. Had the twenty feet between them been a chasm she wouldn't have felt more separated from the man. The illusion vanished however, as Riddick walked toward her. Crossly, Jasmine presented her profile.

"Let the Elemental carry your accessories," she clipped the phrase.

"By now all the Necros know you're here. When they see me honor you, none of them will question your authority."

"Why do you care what they think?"

"I don't, but I won't be here to protect you. You'll be safer this way."

Though both of their marks were covered, Jasmine could feel hers resonating, pulsing with her angry heartbeat.

"My safety is not a concern. You should know that in addition to leading the Furies, I also guard royalty."

Riddick gave a small smile.

"I know."

"How?" Jasmine asked incredulously.

He stepped away then, going back to the table and picking up the helmet. As he walked back, he replied.

"Pathetic selflessness. Everything I've seen you do was motivated by someone else's needs. You act like a servant and you're trained to fight. Bodyguard is the only thing that fits."

"Fuck…you," she growled, but when he offered the helmet, she took it.

* * *

Lord Vaako stood, slowly tapping one foot as a servant buffed the boot on his other. He'd been dressed for several hours, a deep-seated anxiety causing him to wake much earlier than was normal. Since he'd awoken, however, he'd yet to see his wife. Despite their recent spat, he began to worry.

One could not be late for such a day, and most definitely not for such a ceremony. Her absence would broadcast an unmistakable message to the entire congregation and could subsequently result in a horrific disciplinary action.

Though he would not be held legally or morally accountable for his wife's actions, such disrespect would no doubt garnish his lofty reputation of unflinching loyalty.

Presently that reputation was maimed, presumably beyond repair, but the congregation had no choice but to forgive Vaako's attempt at treachery since the new Lord Marshall did.

He glanced at the timepiece on the wall. In another few moments, he would be forced to leave without his wife. He dismissed the servant curtly, reaching for his helmet.

Looking down at it, he couldn't help but grimace; it had been presented to him as a reward…from the man he tried to kill shortly thereafter. Well, the past was the past, and thankfully, Riddick seemed to agree.

He stood, turning to don the helmet and leave. Just then, Dame Vaako burst in, panting and rushed. Her sudden appearance alarmed him, but the surprise was quickly covered by disdain. He spoke without even bothering to turn.

"So nice of you to join me, wife."

She collected herself and answered, flippantly,

"My place is by your side, dear husband."

He turned, smirking…and stopped cold.

"You will _not_ wear that dress."

She smiled, unashamed,

"But, Darling, it is by far the nicest dress I own. I would not presume to wear anything less on this day of days."

Her eyes cheerfully moved over her outfit. The strapless dress shined metallically, with thick filaments of gold radiating down the bodice. Her hair was piled atop her head and held by a spider-like clasp. She knew full well Vaako's reservations. After all, she'd worn the dress on the day that Zhylaw breathed his last.

"You would dare be so disrespectful?" Vaako spoke in a hushed whisper through clenched teeth. "Change. _**Now**_."

Dame Vaako batted her eyelashes demurely.

"I would certainly obey, husband, but," she gestured wordlessly to the clock. If they did not leave immediately they would most certainly be late.

With a roar of frustration, Vaako grabbed the helmet and slammed it onto his head. Ripping the door open in haste, he stormed out. Dame Vaako did not move, merely smiling to herself as she stood.

After a moment, Vaako reappeared in the doorway. Looking everywhere but at his wife, he reluctantly held out his arm. Dame Vaako sidled over to take it, moving gracefully beside him as they glided out the door and down the hall.


	8. Bloodline to the Throne

**AN - I just wanted to send out a special 'thank you' to my wondeful readers/reviewers. Gen1, you made my day!**

* * *

The basilica was packed to capacity, brimming over with an excitement that was almost palpable. The main floor and every balcony were filled. The buzz of conversation varied, but in a sense, the Necromongers were in one accord; they were waiting.

Some looked East, through and beyond the two great statues depicting pain at its most awful. From this way, the former Lord Marshall would come, borne on a litter to his final resting place.

Others looked North toward the chamber of the Quasi-dead. The opening of those doors would signal the arrival of the new Lord Marshall coming to officially ascend his throne.

Scales and Lord Vaako stood on either side of the throne, heading two squadrons that flowed all the way up both stairwells. They would step forward to bid their old leader goodbye; they would also be the first to pledge allegiance to the new.

Vaako glanced surreptitiously at his wife, who stood on the balcony with a group of noblewomen. Her peers wore expressions of nervousness and excitement. Dame Vaako looked bored. Palms flat against the railing, she leaned carelessly over the balcony, scanning the crowd with little interest.

The conversation grew to near fervor, until they heard the dense thud of a drum. All was a hush then, and a loud voice proclaimed,

"Make way for Zhylaw the Last, transcended to Underverse!"

The crowd parted like water and a black-robed procession winded its way up the middle of the hall. Drummers were at the head, pounding a somber beat on the sides of their instruments. Next, came the performers: dancers and acrobats and a man who stopped mid-step to blow flame. A train of purifiers came next, headed by the lead purifier, who bore a torch at chest level.

Finally, the litter came, carrying Zhylaw's remains. The congregation had spared no expense. The former Lord Marshall was laid out in full state. Contrary to custom, his armor had been cleaned and buffed to a brilliant shine; the facemask to his helmet lay on his breast. The men chosen to bear the litter were the strongest the ship had to offer, which was evident, for they bore the body high above their shoulders so all could see the man one last time.

As the body passed, the Necromongers bowed until they knelt, leaning down to touch their foreheads to their hands, crossed on the ground before them. When the procession reached the front, the musicians and performers melted into the crowd, leaving only the purifiers and the body before the throne.

At the Purifier's signal, the pallbearers set the body on a platform that had been erected at the front of the hall. All was silent.

Then the drums began again, this time with a newer, quicker beat - the type designed to stir the blood and quicken the heart. Singers joined in, vocalizing an intense melody comprised of wordless tones and wails. The music continued, steadily growing in speed and ferocity, until it seemed that the drummers would pound right through the skins. Then just as suddenly, it stopped.

For a moment, the only sound heard was that of a thousand breaths, and then the turning of a handle. The breaths stopped. The doors to the Quasi grotto opened, sending the sound echoing through the hall.

"Make way for Lord Marshall Riddick the Fierce!"

The hall was instantly on its feet, everybody facing the throne. Strong and silent, Riddick appeared behind the throne, bedecked in the helmet and hidden by a metallic mask of his own. He climbed the stairs behind the seat, coming around to face the assembly. Jasmine was immediately behind him, her fan spread at her side as she stared brutally into the crowd. Several soldiers and attendants followed, parting and moving to the bottom of the stairs. Rather than sit, Riddick moved down a step and faced the Purifier.

With the death of the other, the man had automatically ascended to the exalted rank. As Riddick cared naught for the office, he hadn't opposed the succession. The brunette handed his torch to one of his underlings, and the man quickly ascended the throne, placing the beacon in a slot behind the seat.

The Purifier beckoned, and Riddick came to stand before Zhylaw's body. Riddick's normally fluid stance was nearly as hard as the rigor mortised corpse, but no one could read the tense expression on his face.

_Bet he's glad I don't gotta to say anything, 'cause it wouldn't be nice._

The thought garnered a small smile, and his furrowed brow became smooth. The Purifier turned to address the assembly.

"May the legacy of our people be as the eternal flame."

He leaned down to take hold of Zhylaw's mask, raising it high above his head.

"As one rule ends," he continued, attaching the mask to Zhylaw's helmet and covering the stern face for the final time, "another begins."

With both hands he reached up and removed Riddick's mask. As the Furyan's face was revealed, a cheer burst forth within the hall.

Despite herself, Jasmine felt a swell of pride, lifting her chin the tiniest bit, never ceasing her scan of the basilica. Her eyes traveled to the balcony and she paused, surprised to find a woman staring directly at her.

_Vaako's wife_.

Though Dame Vaako quickly averted her gaze, Jasmine had seen enough to recognize the spark of a sharp and perhaps dangerous intelligence. Unfortunately, there was no time to address it now. Per Riddick's previous request, she sheathed her fan and descended the throne's stairs. Slowly, she came to the Purifier, palms outstretched to receive Riddick's mask.

The procedure was executed perfectly until she beheld the man's face. She paused with a start, gazing at him in disbelief. Her eyes darted to the group of lesser purifiers as though she were searching. Riddick gave a soft grunt and the woman abruptly snapped to attention, bowing and receiving the faceplate.

Simultaneously, she, Riddick, and the Purifier turned. With Riddick at the head, the three climbed the stairs, then turned to face the congregation again.

Still, Riddick did not sit. Instead, Mara came forward, receiving the piece of armor that he removed to expose his forearm. As she moved out of sight, the Purifier stepped forward, brandishing a gilded knife. Riddick presented his arm, holding it out over the throne as the Purifier approached.

"Purchased with blood. Rule in power," the Purifier affirmed, drawing the knife downward across Riddick's arm.

The blood trickled down, splashing upon the throne and making a tiny rivulet down the stairs. Mara immediately reappeared, this time with a binding for Riddick's wound. When it was dressed, the Purifier gestured to the throne, and Riddick sat.

A cry came unbidden from within the ranks.

"Hail Riddick!"

The words were echoed in stereo and most enthusiastically by the soldiers. Jasmine's eyes flew to the balcony. Would Dame Vaako reaffirm the sentiment? When Jasmine looked to where the woman had last been, however, she saw an empty space. She sighed.

_Oh, Riddick - the devil crouches outside your door, and you leave your house unaware. _

The pallbearers returned, and the drumbeat renewed as they carried Zhylaw's body to the catacombs. As he left, lesser purifiers came, bringing a great metallic receptacle. Sliding aside a tile in the floor, they revealed a hole, placing the receptacle over it. Jasmine wrinkled her nose, truly dreading this portion of the ceremony.

Representing the entire army, Vaako and Scales came to stand before the throne. Sliding aside their armor, each produced a knife, cutting his arm and letting the blood flow into the bowl.

"Obedience without question. Loyalty 'till Underverse come," the men said simultaneously.

"You mean it this time?"

Everyone in the hall froze. During the coronation, the new Lord Marshall did not speak, but Riddick had. They all knew that the guttural question was addressed to Lord Vaako. Ignoring the thousands of eyes boring into him from all sides, Vaako bowed low. Then he looked straight into Riddick's gaze.

Never ceasing to maintain the look, Vaako removed the plate from his other arm, cutting himself again. This cut was deep; the blood streamed into the bowl. Vaako grimaced slightly, but stood strong, holding his arm high so that all could see the blood flow. He remained there and the blood rushed until Riddick saw him falter. He quickly turned to the team that served as his medical staff.

"Take care of that."

The team hurried forward, prepared for the bloodletting. They bound Vaako's arm tightly with a tourniquet, and others wrapped a sterile cloth around Scales's forearm. Vaako was able to walk back to his post without assistance, but his skin was frighteningly white. His eyes were clear, however, and they challenged anyone who retained thoughts of his attempted treason.

The Purifier followed in kind, adding his blood to the bowl. The leader of each faction came after, slicing their skin, bringing their life force as an offering.

Mentally, Jasmine tried to distance herself, but with each oath, she was jerked back by the tang of new blood. She glanced down at Riddick. Though she couldn't see his face, she saw the tight grip of his hands on the armrests. How much blood had Riddick seen? How much had he shed? Had any of his victims been as willing as this vast horde?

When she saw Riddick's handhold tighten anew, she glanced forward. Her nostrils flared, but it had nothing to do with this renewed bloodletting.

A woman, clad in next to nothing stood before the throne. Her dress was as form fitting as the Necromonger custom, but it had far less material. The neckline plunged to her navel, the back plunged practically to her buttocks, and the skirt was slit nearly to the apex of her thighs. Her hair was red as fire, trickling down to her waist, and she wore green gemstones that brilliantly set off her eyes.

She even managed to make bleeding look graceful, as the red trickle highlighted the perfection of her alabaster skin.

"The concubines are at your disposal, Lord Marshall," she stated after saying the vow.

Jasmine looked past her and beheld a group of women. They were decently clad, but they were just as well formed as the first. The Furyan's jaw tightened until her face began to ache. Her chagrin was magnified by Riddick's ingratiating smile.

"Don't worry – definitely didn't forget about you," Riddick grinned good-naturedly.

Jasmine heard the laughter of the soldiers, but did not turn to watch. She struggled to quiet the angry sound of her breath; her mark felt hot upon her chest. When Riddick felt his mark resonate he looked up at Jasmine and smirked.

After an infuriating amount of time, the gory ritual was done. The lesser purifiers approached the bowl again, turning the top of the receptacle and letting the blood drain into the floor.

As the bowl was removed, the congregation left also. The average convert was never allowed to look upon the Quasi grotto, so this part of the ritual was not for them.

"Are you ready, Lord Marshall?" the purifier asked.

"_We're_ ready," Riddick answered, and Jasmine turned, her heart in her throat. Then she saw that he offered his arm to Mara. She sighed yet again, turning to follow the small group to the grotto.

She'd nearly descended the stairs, when she had a sudden thought. She stopped a medic before he could leave, commandeering a small piece of cloth. Quickly returning to the throne, she hunkered down, pressing upon the throne, until the cloth was stained red.

Folding the cloth, she stuffed it into her sash and hurried to rejoin the others.


	9. The Lost Ones

Normally the Quasi-grotto was awash in a death-like quiet. Today, however, the atmosphere vibrated with an inaudible hum. Jasmine scuffed her foot along the ground to see if the floor was actually moving.

She glanced to her left at Riddick, standing solid and resplendent despite his arrayal in the enemy's armor. Aereon stood to her right; the shifting air had an almost comical effect on the elderly woman's person. Her form appeared to move in ripples. She caught Jasmine's gaze and nodded, the hum giving the movement a stuttered effect.

Upon their entrance, the Purifier had disappeared into a hidden chamber. He quickly reemerged and a panel opened behind him. There was the grating sound of gears shifting and the retraction of metal, then that of a winding chain. With slow clinks a machine was pulled out of the chamber into the light.

A beam of thick steel was bent into a U-shape, with platforms extending from the sides. From this girder hung a network of mechanisms: pulleys and braces and spikes.

Jasmine could not help but shudder. It looked like a torture device. Eyes wide, she snuck a glance at the new Lord Marshall. His face was stoic, but his gloved hands were clenched into tight fists. He took a step forward. At his gesture, Mara did the same. The Purifier looked perplexed.

"If you're ready, My Lord, we'll begin the purification."

Riddick placed a calloused hand on the back of Mara's neck.

"Actually, _she's_ goin' in."

The Purifier began to sputter. Eventually he was able to exclaim,

"But My Lord! That would be unheard of. This unit is reserved for the Lord Marshall. _She_ is not the Lord Marshall! She is a servant, and she is…she is…"

"Yes?" Riddick replied tersely.

"She is…a woman, Sir."

Mara looked duly mortified, but Jasmine was forced to bite her lip to the point of pain. So far, the majority of her stay in Necrodom had been absolute hell. This moment would be eagerly counted among the bright spots.

Riddick sighed, pulling off his gloves and blindly holding them out behind him. Biting back a complaint, Jasmine stepped forward and took them. The helmet followed suit, and Jasmine unceremoniously inverted it and dropped the gloves inside. As he removed the articles, Riddick asked,

"Does purification make her Lord Marshall?"

"Well, of course not, My Lord," the Purifier responded immediately.

Riddick nodded his assent, then asked another question, slowly, as if the Purifier might not understand. "And is my word law?"

He turned the full force of his gaze on the Purifier, turning his head so that his eyes caught the room's minimal light. They flashed brightly, and the Purifier stood, momentarily stunned. He quickly regained himself, though, rising to his full height and remembering his schooling.

"The Lord Marshall's word is unquestionable, unbreakable law."

The answer gained the Purifier another approving nod.

"Good. Do it."

Still abashed, the Purifier held out his hand. After another assuring glance from her Lord Marshall, Mara moved to meet him, placing her tiny hand into his larger one. As they approached the machine, more purifiers appeared, helping Mara stand on the platform.

With the pull of a lever, the platform began to rise until it was level with the spikes. Focused on the task, Mara barely noticed as her arms were raised, bent, and fastened into a succession of straps. As the spikes were poised to re-pierce her neck she tilted her head to give those watching a small smile. When the expression melted off of her face and her eyes went glazed and vacant, they knew that the points had found their mark.

Riddick grimaced, puffing a burst of air through his nostrils. The discomfort was still in his voice when he asked how long the process would take.

"A mere hour," the Purifier replied. "Not nearly as long as it would have taken for you."

"I'll wait then," was Riddick's answer.

True to his statement, Riddick walked over and sat down upon the dreaded platform lying between the Quasi-dead. Hunched in his armor, he carefully averted his eyes from the sight of Mara's dangling body.

"The rest of you can go," he said softly, reaching to unclasp one of the fastenings of his heavy cape.

The sounds of various footfalls echoed as his order was obeyed. All turned to go but the Purifier, who remained beside Mara to monitor her progress. Keeping a fair amount of distance between herself and the train of Aereon's white dress, Jasmine let the Elemental exit, but then stood in the shadow of the doorway.

Wearily, Riddick dropped his head, but the sudden glint of his eyes informed Jasmine that he was aware of her presence. She dropped the pretense, speaking from the darkness.

"May I wait with you?"

There was a pause.

"Why?"

Taking his question as an invitation, Jasmine came forward. She bent, carefully placing the helmet and the gloves beside him, then seated herself. Forcefully, she dragged her eyes away from the purification.

"She is to be my responsibility now. I should be here."

If Riddick agreed, he did not say so. Instead he quipped,

"You promised me your full support."

"Yes," Jasmine answered blankly.

"Ain't givin' it though."

Jasmine closed her eyes in frustration.

"I have not once tried to stop you – or any of this," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Before Riddick answered, he stood and walked to the back of the grotto. Jasmine looked confused, but followed his lead.

"No echo back here," he said as explanation. "If we're gonna argue I don't want him listening," he nodded toward the Purifier as his silver eyes turned accusatory.

" I don't care that the Necros question your loyalty to their faith, but when they question your loyalty to me –"

"Question _me_?" she hissed back. "Well I question _you_ and your priorities! And your values," she added.

An all-knowing grin flashed across his face as Jasmine glared.

"My God. You're Wolf as sure as I live and breathe."

Another Furyan line, those of the Wolf clan had the most heightened senses of all Furyans. Jasmine had yet to meet another living soul as tactile as Riddick. Even with her years of specialized training, she doubted she could even wound him in a head-on match.

_And_ _he loves the darkness. And those teeth_ –

"Don't change the subject."

Jasmine blinked at the rebuke. She briefly considered holding her peace, but considering the fact that this might be the last time they ever spoke, she continued decisively,

"Let these people have their barbaric ways. _We_ hold ourselves to a higher standard."

Riddick merely raised an eyebrow. Why did he goad her this way?

"I know you understand," she said, but when he continued his silence, she finally exclaimed, " A Furyan pledges themselves to one, Riddick - one man or one woman. We do not scatter ourselves across the galaxy like stars!"

Riddick's grin was patronizing this time.

"So if I just picked the redhead you'd be okay with that?"

"No! Only a fool marries outside his faith. You belong with another Furyan."

"First – I…have…no…faith."

His voice was suddenly serious, and Jasmine felt a fresh pang of sadness. Just as suddenly, though, her sadness became irritation, when he asked,

"Second – you got someone in mind?"

Jasmine felt her face growing hot and opened and closed her fan haltingly. Grabbing two fistfuls of her skirt and lifting them so that she could step back onto the platform, she turned to make a hasty exit.

"I guess waiting with you _wasn't_ such a good idea. Have a nice trip."

"Someone like that blonde in the miniskirt?" he called to her back.

The young woman stopped instantly, her form bowing in defeat.

"She has already visited you." Jasmine did not even bother to phrase it as a question.

"Yeah. I've seen her – in my head – a few times. Kind of like you did this morning."

Jasmine gasped, wondering how many more surprises she could take from this man. Her most guarded fears and secrets were as an open book to him.

Thankfully, Riddick did not wait for her to ask him 'how' yet again.

"You couldn't see your own face, but you were wiped. I know that look. Felt that way right after she gave me this," he concluded, tapping the armor covering his mark.

Suddenly the weight of her mood was too much to bear, and Jasmine rapidly sank onto the platform. Roughly she pressed the heels of her hands against her temples.

"Her name is Shirah. She is also called the Beacon," Jasmine finally said

The words drifted up as a sigh to Riddick's ears. He nodded, though it was not for Jasmine's benefit.

"She has psychic abilities unlike any in all Furyan history – the ability to sense the Lost Ones and speak to them…call them home."

She brown eyes traveled to meet his metallic ones.

"Furyans who have denied or forgotten who they are. People like you."

Riddick sat, intrigued.

"So why can she talk to you?"

" I'm close to her. The Furies are the epicenter of her guard detail. She is the royalty I spoke of."

"And you're lost."

Jasmine shrugged.

"Temporarily." She reached up to begin undoing her hair. "My second-in-command is more than capable; I did tell _her_ that I was leaving."

At this point, Riddick was barely listening. His mind was seized with a gruesome memory.

"The Purifier had a mark like this too. Guess your Beacon gave it to him."

Though he'd spoken softly, Jasmine's head snapped toward him.

"So you _were_ lookin' for him earlier."

"He is the other reason I came."

Riddick paused, realizing that she'd missed his usage of past tense.

"How'd you know he was here?" he asked. "She senses location too?"

"No, but she saw him. Their scars are unmistakable."

The answer was truthful, but Riddick was still unsatisfied.

"I didn't know what a Furyan was and I didn't choose the Necros. Why would you want someone who did?"

Jasmine looked at him sorrowfully, hesitant to reveal one of her most precious secrets, but Riddick was her undoing. He reached over to loosen the last of her braid. His fingers burrowed into the back of her hair, hitting some of the tense points on her scalp and eliciting a soft moan of contentment.

"To do something great," she replied blissfully, but then his fingers were gone and her voice returned to normal.

"I came here because I wanted to do something great. You got to Zhylaw before me and _you're_ going to abandon us. Reclaiming him is my last chance…"

She stopped as she saw Riddick's eyes drifting toward Mara and the Purifier. When the man saw them looking, he informed Riddick that all was well.

Riddick forcibly scratched the skin of his neck.

"This is why you fuckin' tell me the truth. Not this info piecemeal shit."

Jasmine's gaze was full of questions.

"He have a name?"

Jasmine shook her head sadly to answer the negative.

"All we can guess is that he's a lost son of the Hawk line. It's the last of the three clans. He's built like them: streamlined, fine bone structure, but we don't know how old he is or who his parents are."

Her eyes brightened a bit as she concluded, "The good news is that a simple blood analysis can rectify that. Of course, the Hawks handle our technology. When we return home, they only need take a tiny sample to unlock his entire life."

Riddick watched her optimism grow until he could take no more.

"Jasmine," he called repeatedly to get her attention, then concluded, "Jasmine…he's dead. Watched him walk into a sunstorm. Wasn't anything left to bring back 'cept his jewelry. Guess it'll go to him."

He indicated the new purifier.

Had Jasmine been standing she would have fallen. Instead, she bowed her head until it rested upon her knees. Riddick thought she might cry, but she merely murmured to herself.

"I came all this way…all this way and it changes nothing."

They sat in silence for the remainder of the wait.


	10. The Traveler and the Truce

At the end of Mara's treatment, the lesser purifiers filed silently into the Quasi-grotto. Though Riddick and Jasmine had never seen purification, it was routine for them. Two of the stronger men moved to stand beneath Mara's elevated body, prepared to take her weight once she was released.

Next came the removal of the pinions screwed into the sides of her neck. With a whoosh of compressed air, the spikes were mechanically drawn out of the young woman's skin.

The sudden withdrawal forced her eyes open, and she gasped, lunging reflexively forward into the purifiers' arms. They bore her legs and torso back until she was centered beneath the machine again, and other purifiers went to work freeing her bound arms. When she was released she collapsed completely, and the purifiers bore her entire weight.

Riddick immediately stepped forward to examine her. Her eyes were moving beneath closed lids, but in all other facets she appeared to be unconscious. Her visage remained unchanged, except for the occasional drop of blood trickling from her re-inflicted wounds.

The lead Purifier quickly came forward, wrapping gauze loosely around her neck. He looked up at Riddick.

"We'll bring out the Quasi-dead, My Lord."

In response, Riddick held out his arms for Mara's body. Obediently, the purifiers transferred her to his cradling grasp.

"No," he answered, "Let 'er rest first."

Jasmine frowned invidiously at this glimpse of tenderness, gathering her hair at the nape.

Pleasantly surprised, the Purifier nodded, turning to direct the group to the nearest empty bedchamber. Feeling invisible, Jasmine followed last behind the train.

Once he'd settled Mara in a bed, Riddick ordered the nearest servant to bring food.

"Is there anything special I should bring, My Lord?"

Riddick glanced at the unconscious girl, biting his lip.

"Don't know what she likes…broth I guess. Probably'll be all she can keep down. And something for us too," he added, finally appearing to notice his companion.

Jasmine smiled softly, chiding herself for her earlier foolishness. She came forward as Riddick sent the purifiers away, instructing them to await his summons.

They were alone again. Jasmine was quiet, looking up at Riddick expectantly. She'd grabbed his helmet and gloves on the way out, and offered them to him. He shook his head.

"Gonna take off the rest of it. I can't fly like this."

He reached stiffly toward his shoulder, grasping for the decorative brace around his arm. Jasmine came closer to help. It was a very complicated system; the decorative faces and filaments of the armor, when turned a certain way, became the keys that unlocked the protective plates and allowed them to be removed.

Jasmine had no idea as to the procedure, but she stood to receive the armor as he removed it. When he finished, she couldn't help but smile. Beneath his costume were the black tank and cargo pants.

"Defiant to the end," she exhaled.

He glanced at her.

"Aereon told me that once," he replied, amused**.**

Nothing else was more capable of removing the somewhat pleasant mood. Jasmine scowled.

"I will not trust her."

"Didn't ask you to."

Jasmine looked toward the still unconscious Mara.

"And as simple as she seems, I don't trust _her_ either. Why do you?"

Riddick placed the last of his armor on a nearby table.

"I don't trust her. Picked somebody I could control, or you could. You're a bodyguard – guard her. Keep others from gettin' to her – keep _her_ from gettin' to them."

"You would selfishly place her life in danger while you race off after the wind?"

Jasmine had tried in earnest not to mention Kyra. She knew that nothing she could say would convince him of the futility and heartbreak that awaited him.

_What would it be like to be so loved?_

The young Furyan quickly stifled the thought, awaiting Riddick's disapproval. Instead, he answered,

"No one'll be in danger if you're as good as you say."

He looked her over.

"If I'm wrong, now's the time to come clean."

Choosing to show rather than tell, Jasmine reached into her bodice, pulling out one of the throwing knives she'd hidden earlier. She spun, pivoting a tight circle and releasing the dagger as she turned. The sharp point lodge in the wall just above Mara's bed.

"You are not wrong, and if the Necromongers are as overt as _you_ say, then we've nothing to worry about," she finally replied, smoothing the front of her dress.

They were both satisfied at the exchange.

Jasmine paused, contemplating the possible effects of her next action. In light of the circumstances, she pressed on.

"Of the times that you were incarcerated, Riddick," she hurried through the sentence before he could interrupt, "were any of them for theft?"

She'd been worried that he'd be offended, but instead he merely raised a brow.

"Not directly." The words were brusque, but not mean, and she continued,

"Good, then I can expect to get this back."

She reached into the neckline of her dress, resurfacing with a silver pendant hung on a thick chain. One side bore the deep imprint of a feline paw, the other, the image of a stone and an ambiguous coat of arms. She brought it closer, and he slipped on his goggles to see more clearly.

"These are the symbols of my house, and _our_ God." The pronoun was carefully stressed, "The rock, to ground you and crush your enemies. The shield, to protect you from harm."

As she reached up to place it around his neck, she was surprised to see him receive it without protest. She swallowed thickly.

"It is Furyan custom to loan a possession to a traveler…to ensure his safe and swift return."

He tucked the pendant beneath his shirt, though that did nothing to hide its outline.

"Doubt I'll be comin' back, Jasmine."

He refused to give her any hope. She bowed her head.

"Then it is a gift."

They both looked toward the bed when they heard Mara stir. She was looking at them, eyes aglow with light. Her serene smile was firmly in place.

"Forgive my impertinence, My Lord," she refused to drop her manners despite the rasp in her voice, "but would it be too much to ask for something to eat?"

* * *

Once the group was fed, Riddick summoned the purifiers. As the servants took their leave, he held one back, asking them to have his armor placed in his aircraft. Then his attention was focused on Mara. He helped her stand to greet the purifiers, supporting much of her weight on his arm.

Jasmine resignedly moved to the background. Greedily she watched her Furyan brother, making sure to capture each of these final moments. Only he, Mara, and the Purifier would witness this final ritual; apparently her last glimpse of Riddick would be of his back.

As the final company gathered themselves to exit, Jasmine had a sudden thought. Moving toward the group, she spoke to Riddick, carefully using his Necromonger title. His head turned sharply, then he realized the purpose of the formality. Gently handing Mara off to the Purifier, he stepped back, pulling Jasmine out of earshot.

"Yeah?"

"You will think I am trying to stop you, but I must ask…if you are able to retrieve her, how will you bring her back to this plane? Her body is surely decayed beyond salvage…"

"I'll get her another body."

The matter-of-factness of the statement was a shock. Riddick's implications were undeniable and Jasmine was awed at his nonchalant view of murder. A corner of his mouth turned upward.

"Hmm – so killing someone for no reason is okay when you do it, but not me?"

Jasmine frowned, remember how she obtained the clothes used to stow aboard the ship those nights past.

"That was for a reason."

"So is this."

She still looked apprehensive.

"You should look me up on the net sometime. Won't bother me any."

She couldn't tell if he spoke of the net trolling or the murder, and she didn't ask. She felt herself becoming angry and rushed to ensure that they at least parted well.

"Riddick, I would like to ask you for a favor," she broached cautiously.

"Wanna kiss me goodbye?"

In a strange moment of clarity, she was suddenly past anger at his teasing. She looked directly into his eyes.

"If you return, I _will_ kiss you."

His chest rose in a silent laugh and his head tilted slightly.

"Right. Now what's the favor?"

She tucked some hair behind her ear.

"Please give me a date – some time frame where I'll know to stop waiting around."

He nodded gruffly.

"Fair enough. I'll tell Mara before I go."

The frightening machine had been replaced; the Quasi-grotto was back to its essential normalcy. Slowly, Riddick helped Mara to the platform. As he lifted her atop it, he asked,

"Can you stand?"

When he tried to place the servant on her own feet, she sank to her knees. Weakly, she brushed away his attempts to help her.

"It would probably be better if I knelt," she wheezed, endeavoring not to show her fatigue.

Riddick nearly groaned with frustration and impatience. He was desperate to get going, but the girl was clearly exhausted. Another look confirmed fatigue…and fear. He clenched his jaw as the revelation dawned. Of course she was afraid; he hadn't been too jazzed himself the first time he saw those iron pods come down.

Actually…he hadn't seen the Quasi-dead since that day.

When he stepped decisively onto the platform, Mara shakily crawled aside to make room. He reached down, looping his wrists beneath her arms and pulling her to her feet.

"No more groveling. Get up," he tried in vain to keep the irritation out of his voice.

"I'm sorry, My Lord. I'm sorry that I am so weak…"

"You're tired. Nothing wrong with that. It's been a long day."

He hitched a supportive arm around her waist.

"Here. We'll do it together."

Her expression grew stronger then, and she nodded, gathering enough power to stand and lean against him. Checking that she was secure, Riddick turned, making eye contact with the Purifier out side the door. He looked chagrined at the sight of two sharing the platform, but he was a quick study. Whatever he felt, he gave no voice to his concerns.

Ignoring the people milling around her, Jasmine stood in the middle of Necropolis and watched the Purifier engage the machine. A select few could approach the grotto while the Quasi-dead were unveiled, but she would be within earshot if Riddick called.

A whisper of cloth brushed against her, and her hand went to the hilt of her closest weapon. She drew it when she saw Aereon.

"I hope that someday you will no longer feel the need to do that every time I appear."

"Such a day will never come."

Aereon sighed, indifferent.

"Riddick has charged us both to watch in his absence. That may require our collaboration at some point. Can you put aside your prejudice long enough to do as your kinsman asks?"

Jasmine sighed, but sheathed her weapon.

"I thank you for finding me that night." She cast a bitter glance toward the Quasi-grotto, adding, "though it turns out that you did me no great service."

"Most any life is worth saving, young Furyan. There is a balance to uphold," were the Elemental's final words. Then she disappeared into the shadows.

* * *

A groan was pushed from Riddick's diaphragm and through his clenched lips as the Quasi-dead gravity crushed Mara against his chest. He was extremely thankful he'd removed that metal armor.

Concentrating on taking small breaths into his nose and blowing them out of his mouth, Riddick glanced down at Mara. She whimpered against him and he tried to move his arm; it was undoubtedly crushing her too.

_"And what is this? Two? It is unheard of!_"

The ethereal voices spoke, and Riddick knew he was again in the presence of the Quasi-dead. It was very strange; the first time, he had been struck mute, forced to cower before these freaks of nature. But now…

"Made a few chances since my last visit."

The Quasi-dead heaved in surprise, moaning and writhing in their pods. Riddick himself was shocked at the strength in his voice. Apparently he hadn't needed the purification after all.

"_Ah yes! Riddick the Fierce –"_

_"Riddick the avenged _–"

_"Hail, Lord Marshall."_

The voices came intermittently and in stereo, magnified by the egg-shaped chamber.

_"But why have you brought us –"_

_"a rejected one?"_

_"once unworthy and forever."_

Mara was unable to move, but Riddick felt her hands tighten upon his arms.

Suddenly there was flash of gray light, and Riddick saw -

****** _Mara beaming in her new convert's robes as she is presented with her first official Necromonger costume. The black scalecloth flashes with gold ornamentation upon the spine.******_

_*****Mara eagerly listening to the Purifier. He speaks._

"_The Quasi-dead wish to meet with all who are interested in the way. If you would see your path lead to this honored office, be ready in a fortnight._

_But be sure that your mind is strong, your intentions true. They see all and will reject the unworthy…"***** _

_***** Mara huddled and weeping upon the platform. The Quasi-dead scream "unworthy."*****_

"Like I said," Riddick affirmed strongly, "made a few changes. Now tell her what I need to know."

_"A Furyan King –"_

_"It is inconceivable –"_

_"We will do as you command."_

Their voices were inaudible then, but the cloud that drifted along the floor rose and rose until it hid Necromonger and Furyan from view. It began to swirl, becoming a pillar of smoke that tightened until it secreted the platform only.

Outside the door, the Purifier stared in awe. He had been trained for this, but he had never actually witnessed an impartation.

Jasmine was equally shocked to see the plume of white smoke burst into the air. She started forward, straining to see. When she had all but decided to run to the rescue, the smoke ceased as it was forcefully sucked toward the Earth.

All Necromongers turned to watch the smoke disappear. The ritual was finally complete.

Jasmine moved as close to the room as she dared, hovering, waiting to see who would appear. Eventually, the doors opened, and Jasmine loped up the stairs. She'd entertained a small hope, but released it at once.

Mara was the only person she saw. Quickly, she looked over the servant's shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of the room before the doors closed, but to no avail. In response to the Furyan's discontent, Mara smiled.

"The Lord Marshall asked that I immediately inform you that he will return in a month's time."

The young woman smiled again, thinking she had delivered good news, but Jasmine recognized the hidden message. She would wait a month, and then return home to meet her fate. Before Mara could get suspicious though, Jasmine thanked her for the message.

"He has also given you authority to speak for him in council, although you probably won't meet while he's gone. And…" she paused to remember,

"He says you can have any room on the ship as long as it has an adjoining bedroom with only one way in. And you have access to any weapons you want, but not the throwing knives. He says you need more practice first."

Jasmine tried in vain to hide her frown. He hadn't actually given her any choices. Her expression cleared, however, as she focused on the task at hand.

"That adjoining chamber will be for you, Mara. We'd best go find it. Your Lord Marshall would want you to rest. Besides the fatigue, how do you feel? Is there anything special that you need?"

Mara shook her head in wonder.

"I'm not tired anymore. I feel strength, inside…and purpose – " Her words broke off and her voice was choked with emotion. "I have known for some time that my place was to serve," she continued after a moment, "but I never felt that it mattered…"

Jasmine gave a sardonic smile.

"Yeah."


	11. Bruises and Battles

A soft ding sounded and Jasmine awoke, drawing a small blade and rolling immediately to her left side. Mara stood before the door of her chamber, looking a little frightened and very sheepish.

"I apologize, My Lady. I thought I was being so quiet…"

Jasmine sat up in the bed, replaced the blade and swung her body so her feet rested on the floor. She shook her head.

"Mara, I won't say it again. _I_ serve _you_ now, and if you don't stop calling me that I'm going to wallop you with the flat of my sword."

She scratched the back of her head.

"I had that alarm rigged for a purpose. I need to know when that door opens; your safety is far more important than my sleep."

Though her face clearly betrayed that she would not address Jasmine informally any time soon, Mara nodded, padding across the floor to the bathroom. Advancing to the vanity, Jasmine sat and began arranging her hair into a loose braid.

"We might as well have an early breakfast," she called to Mara's back. " and don't eat too much. We start your training today."

Mara turned, giving her an inquisitive glance, but Jasmine merely made a shooing motion with one hand.

Though the women witnessed the occasional patrolling soldiers, the halls of the ship were vastly empty. Jasmine was once again arrayed in her doeskin shirt, though she'd had a pair of men's pants tailored to fit her. The Necros did many things that she found repulsive, but Jasmine had to marvel again at their skill for craftsmanship.

Mara wore her normal costume of a form fitting black dress. Glancing repeatedly at Jasmine's casual dress, she finally asked,

"You plan to teach me to fight, but how shall I move in this?"

"I plan to teach you enough to keep yourself alive until I can come and save you. And we've found it best to train a warrior in the environment in which they'll be required to fight. Your environment," she gestured toward Mara's outfit, "includes that dress."

The younger woman registered a small frown, but put up no more protest. As they passed the Lord Marshall's chamber, she saw Jasmine glance morosely at its doors. She chanced to speak again.

"You needn't worry that he'll be unfaithful to you," she said reassuringly.

They had reached the stairs, but upon the remark, Jasmine froze, causing Mara to nearly run into her back.

"What did you say?" the Furyan asked quietly, turning to fix an incredulous gaze upon her companion.

Mara mirrored the confusion, but continued,

"It is the Lord Marshall's sworn duty to regard his wives equally. He simply is not ready to part with the other. He would surely do the same if you were there and Kyra here."

At the sound of Kyra's name, Jasmine dropped her chin imperceptibly, understanding dawning in her eyes. Carefully, she phrased her response.

"I am afraid you're mistaken." The words were measured as carefully as her gaze.

Again, Mara was bemused.

"But – you sleep in his chamber. He chooses your clothes – he hasn't touched a one of the concubines – "

"I do not serve him in that way."

The tone spoke of finality, but Mara was too curious to be quelled.

"You haven't heard the talk, My Lady? Everyone assumes you are his woman."

"I am. Aren't you?"

"Of course!" Mara replied immediately, "no one will ever need question my loyalty."

"Good," Jasmine smiled indulgently, with a hint of patronization. "We should get to the training facility."

She turned her back and descended the stairs, hiding the troubled look that crossed her features. As they came to the landing, she huffed in irritation. She could hear the hitch in Mara's breath and knew another question was coming. Expectantly, she whirled to face the Necromonger and let her exasperation show.

Mara was apologetic, but she could not refrain from leaning forward to whisper,

"Then you may want to be careful of your expressions, My Lady. The eyes often betray what the mouth will not speak."

Jasmine drew back in shock, eyes widening as she blinked slowly. Mara's chagrin was evident immediately.

"I've said too much," she finished, mortified.

Jasmine sighed.

"No. I've told you time and again that you are no one's servant. Say what you like."

_Even if it's clearly wrong_, she thought tenebrously.

They passed the rest of the time in silence, making their way to the lower levels of the ship. The air was filled with a muffled hum, presumably from the engines beneath them.

Suddenly Jasmine stopped, holding up her hand. Mara halted immediately, straining fervently to hear what Jasmine heard.

The Furyan tilted her head to the right, taking a few steps forward. She would have sworn she'd heard voices. She listened again, and distinctly heard,

"_You'll have your chance_."

Her blade was drawn in an instant. She opened an adjacent door and shoved Mara inside when she found the room empty, mouthing for the young woman to be quiet.

Pressing back until she was against the wall, Jasmine stood beside another door. Standing in the shadows, she waited to see who emerged. The door opened momentarily, and a figure came out. In one move, Jasmine appeared, holding the point of her blade to the throat of…Dame Vaako.

The woman nearly shrieked in surprise, though she collected herself quickly.

"I see you plan to make a habit out of cutting my neck," the woman hissed.

"You'll have your chance to what?" Jasmine hissed in return, teeth bared.

Dame Vaako endeavored to step back, but Jasmine pressed harder with the blade. The Necromonger winced as the sword nicked her skin. Gingerly, she reached up to examine the wound, but Jasmine refused to move the blade.

"My chance to harangue my husband. As the Lord Marshall's second-in-command, he is to officiate over the funeral games. The scribes have come to meet with him and review the rules, but he is nowhere to be found. I thought he might be in the training facility."

"I am the Lord Marshall's second-in-command, and that is not the door to the facility," Jasmine leered.

"This ship has many turns and passageways, young breeder." Dame Vaako spat out the words.

Mouth taut, Jasmine finally stood down, though she did not sheath her blade.

"If you'd prefer to officiate instead, you should let the scribes know."

"I have no interest in your ways," was Jasmine's final reply as she stood aside to let the older woman pass.

When the woman had disappeared around a corner, Jasmine approached the door she'd exited, yanking it open and brandishing her sword and fanblade before her.

She was greeted by an empty passageway. Advancing slowly, she moved down the hall. When she was satisfied that there was no one, she left and went to retrieve Mara.

* * *

"It's really mine? I can keep it?" Mara exclaimed in awe.

"The armourers finished it in record time, though I don't recall asking him for the jewel inlay…" Jasmine trailed off humorously. The Necros were craftsmen, but they lacked in the area of simplicity. Still, it was nice to see the girl so happy.

_I wonder if her life has been as bitter as her name_, the Furyan wondered absently.

Returning to the moment, Jasmine drew her own fanblade and approached Mara.

"That fan is not a toy, young lady," she said gruffly.

In a sudden move, Jasmine turned and flicked her wrist, hurling the fan in Mara's direction. The girl screamed and ducked , though the fan would not have grazed her. Curving to the right, the blade spun, landing with a "thwack" as it embedded itself in the chest of a combat dummy.

"It is a weapon," Jasmine grunted as she pulled the blade free of its mark. With her free hand, she motioned Mara closer to finger the deep gash left in the dummy's torso. The girl's lips formed a silent "o" of surprise.

"A weapon – yes," she nodded breathlessly. "I will not forget."

Jasmine gave a small smile as she remembered the earlier days of her training. The fanblade had been her own invention, but the wonderment had been the same.

"For now, I simply want you to get comfortable with holding it. You will carry it at all times. And this," she concluded, drawing a similarly crafted dagger. Shyly, Mara received the second gift.

"And now you'll show me how to use _this_?"

"No. Now we start at the beginning."

Gesturing for Mara to follow, Jasmine walked across the practice floor until she reached a console that featured a serious of small levers. Fiddling with the controls, she continued,

"You must learn to see danger before you can fight danger. Stand here."

Mara stood beside the machine, watching curiously as Jasmine drew a length of cloth from her pocket. She took a step forward, but retreated when Jasmine held up a hand.

"When I give the signal, push that button."

Mara nodded her obedience, watching Jasmine walk backward until she stood in the middle of the practice floor. The Furyan proceeded the tie the cloth over her own face.

"Tell me what you see," Jasmine instructed as she signaled for Mara to start the machine.

Mara engaged the contraption, scanning the room furiously for whatever might come. Trouble appeared soon enough, in the form of a huge medicine ball descending from the ceiling in a swinging arc aimed for Jasmine's back.

Jasmine stood motionless as the ball increased in speed and nearness. Mara sputtered, trying to describe the thing to Jasmine, but as the ball came closer, she finally just yelled,

"Jasmine, behind you!"

Jasmine immediately ducked down and right, dropping to her stomach on the floor. The ball swung harmlessly past until it was drawn again into the ceiling. When the Furyan stood, she was smiling.

"Good. Next time, keep it to a level and a direction. Again."

Mara was nonplussed at the unconventional training, but Jasmine's approval filled her with pride. She pushed the button another time.

The sphere came again.

"Low right!" Mara shouted.

Jasmine slid back and left…and bellowed as the ball struck her left side with a thick thud, knocking her to the floor. She groaned a curse and yanked off the blindfold, staring up at her trainee.

"I meant _my_ right…"

* * *

Up in the basilica, the Necromongers had gathered to watch the first day of the funeral games. The servants had brought out chairs, leaving a circle clear on the main floor. The Lord Marshall's throne was empty, covered ceremoniously with a length of blood-red silk. Scales sat to the left of the throne while Vaako sat on the right, his wife seated smugly beside him.

When the time came, Vaako arose and addressed the crowd. At his command, those soldiers nominated to compete advanced from the balcony and down the stairs. They were seated around the impromptu ring. A servant came, bearing another silver basin, but this time, there was no bloodletting.

Vaako's wife sailed forward moving to his left; Scales approached more solemnly. Each reached into the basin, selecting a slip of parchment and handing it to Vaako. He opened the slips, reading the names of the two warriors who would compete first. Two armor bearers approached then, holding identical poll axes. The soldiers received the weapons, and the fight began.

The two women slowly made their way back to the main hall. Their speed was affected by Jasmine, who was nursing several bruises, specifically an extremely painful one blossoming upon the skin of her chest and abdomen. Mara was beside herself.

"Jasmine, why did you let me do that to you?"

_At least she stopped saying 'My Lady'_, Jasmine thought ruefully.

"Guilt."

"What?" Mara asked, perplexed.

"Memories are sharper when they can be connected to a strong emotion. Your strongest emotion is guilt. By using that, we've insured that you will never forget this training. The thought of me being hurt on your account will do more to keep you watchful than any of my warnings."

She winced as the bruises stung anew, frowning as she saw Mara's eyes glow glassy with moisture.

"I have a salve for bruises," she said to reassure the distraught girl, "and I'm a fast healer."

When they reached the basilica, they found the way obstructed where it had previously been clear.

"Funeral games began today," Mara explained.

Jasmine nodded as though this were new information; she'd purposely kept the Dame Vaako encounter from the girl.

"Why don't you stay and watch," Jasmine suggested. Mara would surely be safe in such a public place. "I should see to myself."

They moved around the crowd until they reached the group sitting by the throne.

"Is there a seat for the Lord Marshall's consort?" Jasmine asked, mustering an authority that belied her pain.

Vaako nodded imperiously, gesturing to the empty place beside his wife. Unaware of that morning's events, Mara sat down excitedly. She missed the heated glance that Jasmine and Dame Vaako shared, as did all of the others.

"I'll return momentarily," Jasmine whispered to Mara, keeping her eyes on Dame Vaako the entire time. The woman smiled pompously.

Doing her best to hide her injuries, Jasmine climbed the stairs and hobbled to her room. There, she sank gratefully into a hot bath.

Enlightened regarding the world of combat, Mara watched eagerly, trying to retain all that she could. Dame Vaako noted the girl's excitement, leaning over to ask,

"The breeder is teaching you to fight?"

"No," the girl answered, true to Jasmine's hushed command that she keep their activities secret, "I was giving her a tour."

Dame Vaako was suspicious, but she replied,

"I see, and will you show her the purification chamber any time soon?"

Mara frowned,

"Jasmine doesn't want to be purified."

Ignoring her husband's disproving glance, Dame Vaako continued,

"But even Riddick has agreed to be purified. The girl is in rebellion, and _that_ is not loyalty."

Mara froze, remembering another secret she'd been sworn to keep, this time by Riddick himself.

_He probably wishes to wait until his return_, she rationalized.

"The Lord Marshall will address that when he returns," she said aloud.

"I'm sure he will, my dear, but would it not be a pleasant surprise if Jasmine was already purified upon his arrival? We'd be one big happy family," she sighed, voice syrupy-sweet.

"I doubt you could persuade her."

"With your help, I can."

Mara glanced up at the older woman, brow deeply furrowed. Something was not right.

"What do you mean?"

Dame Vaako waved her hand, pooh-poohing the girl's suspicions.

"She won't come anywhere near me, but if you could set up an occasion where I could speak with her, I'm sure I could win her over to our side."

When Mara was silent, she concluded,

"Oh, just think about it. What harm could there possibly be in talking?"

After the bath and the liberal applying of salve to the worst of the bruises, Jasmine felt well enough to return to the great hall. She found her way downstairs just as two soldiers were beginning another match. When Vaako saw that she wished to sit, he turned to his wife expectantly. Dame Vaako stared hotly, daring him to do what he planned.

Her fiery look did nothing to stop him; she was long overdue for a rebuke.

"Wife, the Lord Marshall's second-in-command must be seated. Go and join the noblewomen."

There were too many people watching, so Dame Vaako could not protest as she burned to do. Barely masking her fury, she rose, and walked away. Jasmine promptly sat, doing nothing to hide her mirth.

After touching Mara's shoulder in greeting, she leaned toward Vaako.

"Is now a proper time to ask how this works?"

Impressed by her decorum, Vaako inclined his head and replied,

"Over the next five days, the nominated soldiers compete in five weapons: poll axe, broad sword, war hammer, gladius, and hand-to-hand combat."

Jasmine nodded. The weapons' ranges grew smaller each day; opponents would be forced to fight in closer proximity.

"They fight to the death?" she finally asked.

"No," he answered, following her train of thought, "we do not believe in wasting soldiers. For the bigger weapons, like the poll ax, the fight is called when one is in position to strike the killing blow."

"Checkmate," Jasmine quipped to herself.

At her chess reference, the corner of one of Vaako's eyes crinkled, though he did not smile. He concluded,

"For hand to hand, after three touches. Then the five winners battle with the weapon of their choice. Eventually one is left."

"And if a warrior wins in more than one weapon?"

"He advances automatically to the last battle."

So the Necros _were_ occasionally possessed with common sense.

Jasmine shifted in the hard chair, focusing on the bout in order to ignore her discomfort. She sniffed. This had not been the first, and she was certain that it would not be the last time that she felt uncomfortable in this place.


	12. Left Unaware

The days passed. Jasmine's bruises healed and Mara's skills grew. After that first day of training the Necromonger had sworn that Jasmine would never bleed for her again. The Furyan had gently dismissed the impossible oath, but Mara had succeeded in making her impression.

In between trainings, Mara regaled her protector with all of the Necromonger history that she could remember. What she could not was easily found in the archives.

This was another moment of such a history lesson, though it didn't involve the Necromonger horde. The girls sat in their chamber, with Mara at the desk and Jasmine on the floor, running an oilcloth across the scabbard of her sword.

"He really _was_ a murderer. He's been in and out of prison since age eleven," Mara read in shock, staring at the vid screen hovering above the desk.

Though she did not allow it to show, Jasmine was equally surprised. Riddick was skilled in weaponry, and he was often gruff, even mean, but those were not necessarily earmarks of a hardened killer. When he'd told her to look him up, he'd seemed so proud.

_It's what_ _happens when you don't know your place in the world. You make one_.

"Be mindful that your people are certainly not saints," she finally said aloud.

Regardless of Riddick's past, it was not an outsider's place to judge him.

"But _I've_ never killed anyone," Mara retorted.

"For now, but you would if you had to. No sane creature wants to die."

She shook her head again, this time to clear it, and stood, sheathing her kitana.

"Speaking of creatures," the Furyan smiled, " we should keep our appointment with Talon."

Mara quickly closed the screen, grabbing her fan and placing it so that it hung from her waist. These visits to the aviary had been one of the highlights of the past weeks. Mara had known Talon, the keeper of birds, for several years, but before this time, she had never entered his domain. Established by the fifth Lord Marshall, the aviary, like so many places on the ship, was restricted to nobility.

During one of their many conversations, Mara had revealed her fascination with the raptors that could sometimes be seen through a hall window. Jasmine had reminded the girl of her new station, and the trips to the aviary had soon become customary.

They stepped into the hall, casting a cursory glance over the balcony and into Necropolis. Now ever watchful, Mara stopped immediately when she felt Jasmine pause. She turned to see the young Furyan, frozen, staring at the main floor. She came to stand by Jasmine's side, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

"What is it Jasmine?" Mara asked, confused by the sudden flash of anger and revulsion that crossed the young woman's face.

"Has that woman committed a crime?" she asked, though it was clear that she knew the answer would be negative.

Mara followed Jasmine's pointing finger, and her mouth formed a wordless "oh." She beheld a man in customary black leather walking across the Basillica. In his right hand he grasped the end of a delicate golden chain.

Connected to the chain, was a woman. Though she wore the ornamented dress of a complete convert, she did not look a day over seventeen. She walked silently behind the man, head down, wrists bound before her. Bracing herself for Jasmine's outburst, Mara quietly answered,

"No. She is his wife."

Jasmine's voice was deceptively calm.

"You keep your wives in chains?"

"Ah, you've spotted our newest happy couple!"

True to her training, Mara turned completely around, widening her stance to face the new speaker. Jasmine had noticed Dame Vaako approaching, but had hoped the woman was headed somewhere else. Rather than face the older woman, Jasmine displayed only her profile, as a sign of disdain. The Necromonger did not catch the Furyan symbolism, but she did not need it to know of Jasmine's dislike.

Despite her loathing of the suspicious woman, Jasmine was curious enough to ask for an explanation.

"I'm surprised Mara never told you. Around here, we still believe in 'taking' wives."

Jasmine glanced at Mara; the girl actually looked embarrassed. Thinking back to her schooling, Jasmine had a brief memory of a bit of old Earth history. She'd read that in ancient times, if a man kidnapped a woman and raped her, she was legally his wife.

She shuddered, tasting bile on the back of her tongue. Feigning ignorance of Jasmine's disgust, Dame Vaako continued,

"That would be Ewon and Kaiya. Poor girl - she'd barely made it out of her first robes..."

"So, rape a woman and she's your wife," Jasmine spat.

"And all she has is yours - possessions, titles," Dame Vaako ticked the list off on her fingers, "the unmarried noblewoman usually finds ways to protect herself – little one never stood a chance."

She sighed dramatically.

_So you keep what you_ rape _as well. Riddick or no, I cannot stay here much longer_.

"So the chains are to keep her from escaping." Jasmine queried dryly.

Dame Vaako laughed.

"Not that there's anywhere to run to, but yes – and also to keep her from taking her own life. As despicable as we find suicide," she glanced pointedly at the bound woman, "it's happened before."

Her glance traveled upward to the ceiling,

"The last time a woman escaped, she leapt from – up there."

She pointed all the way up to the basilica's dome, hundreds of feet above them.

"It caused quite a sensation. That was when they started using the chains, but just until the woman accepted her fate," she concluded matter-of-factly.

Were you…?" Jasmine looked at the older Necromonger, leaving the rest of her question to hang in the air.

The woman laughed again.

"Of course not. Vaako's hardly the type. Ours was a traditional ceremony. You would have found it uninteresting."

"Undoubtedly," Jasmine said dismissively, then, "well, thank you for the…lesson," as she put a hand on Mara's shoulder to steer her away.

"If it's any consolation," Dame Vaako called to their backs, "her chains will be coming off soon. They always do it once the fire goes out of their eyes…"

"She doesn't deserve him," Mara muttered as they walked away.

* * *

Talon had just gone off to bring back a peregrine, Mara's favorite of the group. As they waited, Jasmine turned to her charge.

"What is your greatest weapon?"

Mara responded without hesitation,

"That I am underestimated."

" What do you do if something ever happens to me?"

"I don't stop to see about you. I go straight to the room, enact the security system and summon Aereon."

Jasmine still frowned at the mention of the Elemental's name, but at least the woman had had the fortitude to keep the holes out of her neck.

"If I don't hear from you in fifteen minutes, we take the escape pod."

"Yes, and you go wherever she says. Riddick will find you once he returns," she added.

_If_ _he returns_.

Too eager to sit still, Mara rose and paced around the oversized terrarium that was the home of the birds. The aviary was a giant glass dome, a dome-within-a-dome if one was to be technical. Without, was the domain of the birds. The room had been designed so that none would be caged, and a handler could walk freely among the animals.

Within that dome was a smaller one, designed for nobility to have a three hundred and sixty degree view of the place, as well as overhead. For the Lord Marshall and those the handler favored, Talon would bring a bird inside for a personal introduction.

Now the gentleman returned, baring a surprise for his young audience. In his hands, he cradled a peregrine eyass. It was covered in fluffy down that matched the beginnings of a white streak in the man's otherwise dark hair.

Mara's cry of delight frightened the bird into his own run of squeaking. He was not strong enough to flap his wings, but he shuddered distinctly in Talon's strong hands. Rather than be cross, however, the keeper fixed an infinitely patient glance on the young Necromonger.

"Careful. You're only the second humanoid he's seen. He's not quite ready to be away from his folks, but I knew you'd been waiting to see the eyasses."

"Yes. Thank you, Talon," Mara breathed gratefully.

She came closer, staring appreciatively at the new life he held.

"And since you're here," the man drawled, "I was thinking you'd like to name him."

Mara's jaw dropped, and Jasmine smiled indulgently.

"Come now, Mara. You've been researching names since you heard the babies were coming."

Mara blushed furiously at Jasmine's revelation.

"Well I didn't think I'd actually get to name one!"

She paused for a fraction of a second, then concluded,

"Galen. He definitely looks like a Galen."

"Galen. What do you think, little one?"

Talon lifted the little bird to eye-level, and the eyass began another round of squeaking.

"Looks like a keeper. Galen it is."

Talon smiled, then excused himself to reunite the baby with his mother. As he exited the inner dome, Mara ran to the side to watch him enter the heart of the aviary. She remained even after he'd turned the corner and was out of sight.

"I really could stay here all day."

Jasmine nodded in agreement.

"This is the only place on this god-forsaken heap where I feel at home," she sighed.

Mara turned at her declaration.

"Where is your home, Jasmine? On Furya?"

In response, Jasmine was stony-eyed and silent. Mara's face fell.

"You still will not trust me."

"It isn't your fault. I trust my own – no others."

At this, Mara scuffed her foot across the floor and gave a huff of frustration.

"If I were untrustworthy, I would have betrayed you to Dame Vaako!"

"What?" Jasmine's brow rose in curiosity. "When?"

"She approached me during the funeral games. She wanted me to set-up a time and place for her to 'meet' with you – I was supposed to lure you there somehow. She was going to have you forced into purification, but I didn't help her. I'd never help anyone who wanted to do you harm!"

"I know – I know you wouldn't." Jasmine responded, holding up a placating hand. "Right now, I must be on guard continuously. Those aren't the best grounds on which to forge a friendship – "

At the sound of that word, Jasmine paused, surprised. The fact that she'd ever pair the words "Necromonger" and "friend"…

Despite Jasmine's pause, Mara's eyes lit up with hope.

"So you aren't made of stone."

"No." Jasmine bowed her head, but she was smiling.

After saying their goodbyes to Talon, they turned for their chambers. They'd made it about thirty paces, when Mara exclaimed,

"Wait, I left my fan in the aviary!"

She bit her lip anxiously, awaiting the rebuke she knew was coming. Their latest encounter had softened Jasmine's manner, however, and instead of scolding the girl, she merely reached into her sash.

"It's a good thing I realized that," she said, handing the fan to its rightful owner. Jasmine had seen it lying on a bench as they left and had grabbed it, planning to make an object lesson of it once they returned.

"Well, I still have the dagger," Mara answered, patting it's hiding place at her waist.

Gratefully, she received the fan and began tying it to her sash.

Jasmine shook her head, glancing at the wall. She paused, bemused, and stared down a vacant hallway.

_There was a door there yesterday_, she thought absently. Peering a little closer, she could see the archway. There were definitely hinges, which meant that a door had been removed.

She blinked, feeling her heart rate begin to increase, the way it did before a fight. Her mark began to glow beneath her clothes, thrumming at a frequency only she could hear.

_A warning_.

Time seemed to slow down. She turned to Mara.

"Go," she hissed.

Mara looked at her, puzzled, but her eyes widened when she saw Jasmine reach back for her sword.

"Go!"

The Furyan yelled this time, sending Mara running across the hall to the other side of that floor.

Jasmine slipped the sword free of its sheath, flinging her fan open and turning just in time to see ten Necromonger soldiers spill out of the newly opened hallway.

"Zurmàgen, crush my enemies!"

The Furyan yelled the warrior's prayer and skewered one assailant clean through. He fell to the floor before she could pull the kitana free, so she swept her fan in a crisp arc, slashing across the opening in one warrior's helmet. He screamed, trying in vain to staunch the blood flowing from his now useless eyes.

With a grunt, she wrenched her blade free of the corpse, falling sideways to dodge the downward thrust of a spear. Turning on the floor, she swung the sword in a low circle, effectively hamstringing one through the gap in his armor. When he fell to the floor, her blade came down, piercing through the armor and severing his hand

Though it occurred in various ways, all ten of the soldiers fell beneath the fury of Jasmine's blade. She scanned the space around her, senses wide open, but no more danger came. Eventually, her mark ceased to throb, her heart rate decreased, and her breathing returned to normal. It was only then that she registered the flashes of pain coming from various appendages, particularly her right arm.

She groaned in frustration, ripping the torn sleeve free of the garment. Her right arm had been cut – again. She ran a thumb across the thick, raised scar that had come from Riddick, then moved upward to check the new cut. Thankfully, it was shallow and would not need stitches.

Gingerly, she tested other muscles and found everything to be in working order. She used the sleeve to superficially clean the blood from her weapons and turned to go. She'd have to hurry in order to catch Mara.

She turned to follow the girl's path and stopped.

"What the _fuck_ are you still doing here? The first and only real order I ever gave you and you _completely_ disobey me!"

Mara had run to the other side of the floor, but she had also stopped there. Even across the distance, Jasmine could see that the girl was crying and ringing her delicate hands.

"I'm sorry – I just froze" she called, her voice thick with tears.

Jasmine simply shook her head, emotionally exhausted. Briefly, she looked back at the pile of bodies. She really had not wanted Mara to ever see that side of her. The girl would not be able to be near her again without cowering in fear.

Well, that was another problem for another time. She sheathed her blades. As she moved to finally join her charge, she heard Mara again.

"Left!"

The girl's voice was an anxious scream and Jasmine's blade reappeared instantly. The danger did not come in the form of a man, however.

The last thing Jasmine saw was a brilliant stream of blue and white light.


	13. Spoilage and Spirits

_We are getting close, My Lord_.

Riddick snapped awake, eyes opening beneath his goggles. Slowly, he uncrossed his feet, leaning back in his chair as he moved them from the console back to the floor. He glanced over his shoulder, snuffling tersely at the quasi-pod built into the ship's wall. He couldn't tell if the creature had spoken aloud or straight into his head.

_Gettin' soft_, Riddick thought, scratching his chest. It had been far too long since he'd had any real alone time. It was starting to affect his reflexes. His hand paused when it met Jasmine's pendant where it lay beneath his shirt. No one had ever given him something so valuable.

At least not something material.

At the thought, Riddick stood to his feet, reaching for his armor.

_I'm comin', Jack_.

* * *

Valhalla, Avalon, Paradise -

_HEAVEN_.

Regardless of the faith – it all meant the same thing: to close one's eyes in death and open them in eternity. To be reunited with loved ones lost.

Furyans longed for Heaven.

To meet the brother who'd been murdered after thirty seconds of life. The brother who died while Shirah lived.

_And my mother_.

To be reunited with the mother she'd known only from the inside. To look into her eyes and beg forgiveness for making her die.

Jasmine knew that when she opened her eyes she would behold her mother's face.

She took a breath…and nearly screamed.

Shocked and confused, the Furyan forced her eyes open, squeezing them shut again because of the light.

Her breath came in pants; all of her nerves were screaming, letting her know that one – she was definitely not dead, and two – she was in a great deal of pain.

At the moment, touch had all of Jasmine's focus, but gradually other senses were awakened. Jasmine grimaced. The taste of blood was unpleasant in her mouth; undoubtedly she'd bit her tongue when she fell.

Slowly, equilibrium returned. Jasmine could surmise that she was laying on her back; the bright light was from the ceiling panels…and sparks coming from the front of the hallway. They were moving up, around, and down, in the pattern of a square. She registered a whirring sound. She tensed to rise and take a closer look.

She couldn't.

She tried to move her head. She couldn't. She tried to move her neck, her arms, her fingers. Head-to-toe, her muscles appeared to be paralyzed. It didn't make any sense. How could she still breathe?

"Remarkable thing, this gun. Engineered to do so much damage, but with a minor adjustment and a far enough range, it essentially renders the victim paralyzed – the major extremities, anyway."

Jasmine would have glared or hissed if she could. Instead she stared up at the ceiling, hoping that hatred could be felt telepathically.

"Vaako and I were working on the design."

Her attacker laughed derisively.

"But of course you can't tell who I am."

He came closer, and the floor vibrated against Jasmine's back with each step he took. A moment passed, then he loomed over her. Jasmine looked up.

_TOAL_.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, but I had to weld the door shut. I can't have you running off."

His leering smile was blinding against his dark skin.

The arrogant grin brought fire to the Furyan's blood. She took as deep a breath as she could.

"Mara would rather die than help you."

The forced words were a squeak of a whisper, but Toal's face lit with surprise; he was clearly impressed. He reached down and grabbed a fistful of Jasmine's hair, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger.

"What makes you think I want her?"

* * *

The quasi-dead assured him repeatedly that the coordinates were correct, but when Riddick looked through the windshield at the front of the ship, he saw stars and the dark expanse of space – nothing more.

"No portal, no gate, _and_ I can't take the ship through?"

_You must_ walk _through, Lord Marshall_.

His hand went to the hilt of his shiv and he paced before the window. It didn't look right; it didn't smell right.

_It is no trick. It is a test. Of your faith. You cannot rule if you cannot believe_.

Riddick's pacing led him to the quasi-pod. Bracing himself on one arm, he leaned over to lock eyes with the quasi-dead.

"You freaks can't lie, right?"

_Lying is beneath us. So are insults_.

The remark brought a smirk to Riddick's face. He grabbed his helmet, strode to the console, and then to the exit. After unlocking the decryption, he raised his arm to slap the panel next to the door. Then he paused mid-swing, reaching down to unholster a gun. Palming the shiv in his free hand, he hit the panel.

The first door slid aside, revealing a hallway. Normally the walkway could be connected to a host ship if it was too small to dock. This was particularly useful for mid-air fueling or repair, as one could simply walk between ships to carry supplies.

But now, it simply dangled out into space. Slowly, Riddick walked toward the tunnel's end. He was walled-in all sides, but the material was transparent. Reinforced neutron-casing was all that was between him and a slow float to his death – although he certainly would suffocate before any planetary body could ever strike him.

He'd been instructed to take no oxygen, only himself, though he'd refused to go unarmed. He stood at the final door, straining for a sign that some portal existed. Still, he saw nothing. Briefly, Riddick closed his eyes. Then, taking an enormous breath, his lungs expanding until they strained with oxygen, he pressed the panel, raised a foot, stepped out –

And he was standing. The black of the cosmos had disappeared, or perhaps it had faded. All around him was dull dun, peppered with pinpoints of light that might have been stars. The air moved and swirled, as though with clouds, but there were none It wasn't a room or a plane, but a void that appeared to stretch as far as he could see. Experimentally, he exhaled, and the mist blocked his vision. He raised his hand to bat it away. Then just as quickly, the fog dissipated.

Out of the mist, there rose two grand gates.

Riddick drew his weapons, striding purposely to the gateway. When it didn't open, he sheathed the gun and the blade. He took a step back, craning his neck to gauge how high he'd have to climb. He couldn't see the top. The mist obscured his view…or the gates stretched on eternally.

He walked to the right. Each gateway appeared to be about twenty paces long. When he reached the end, he stretched to look around the gate. The gates looked the same on their backside, but there was nothing behind them.

_Okay…_

As he walked back to where the gates met, Riddick searched furiously for a solution. Taking another deep breath, he steeled himself for action.

_No one else is gonna die for me._

Reaching out, he wrapped his fists around the bars of the gates, then gasped in surprised as a searing pain raced up his arms and into his chest. Abruptly he let go, and the pain stopped.

He shook his head, determined. Jack had given her life; he could take a little pain. He reached out again.

"You are to make a pilgrimage to the gates. Not through them."

Riddick's blade reappeared instantly. He sneered when he saw the speaker.

"Zhylaw," he growled.

The former Lord Marshall stood framed in the mist, looking exactly as he had in life. He wore the same armor, the same veiled expression.

"Relax, Lord Marshall. Neither of us can harm the other here," Zhylaw said imperiously, then, "let's talk awhile."

Riddick sheathed his weapons yet again.

"No thanks. Got something to do."

Zhylaw's sigh echoed into the air.

"The living may only pass through the first gate."

He pointed behind him, and Riddick beheld the backside of a doorway.

"The second gate is restricted to the dead. As you've seen those gates, you will leave with the power of the Holy Half-Dead, but if you attempt to pass through them, your body will die."

"I'm not leavin' without her." Riddick's jaw was set.

Zhylaw smiled tolerantly.

"Of course. You wish to see the girl and that is your right. It is part of the pilgrimage. You simply have to summon her."

"Hmm?"

"You have the power. Simply wish her here. But be mindful: she'll only be able to stay for a few moments."

Riddick widened his stance defiantly.

"I told you. She leaves with me."

"No spirit can pass through the first gate," Zhylaw answered, just as stubbornly. "But you are welcome to try."

Growling in the back of his throat, Riddick turned to face the gates. He was done talking. His brow furrowed as he focused, silently calling the girl's soul to return to him.

Abruptly, the air went silent; the mist seemed to freeze where it moved. There was a strange gray flash as one of the light points detached itself and floated toward the two men. It stopped, then began to stretch and lengthen its shape. When it was the size of a man, the pinpoint began to pulse, increasing in speed until the beats were uncountable.

Suddenly, it became a thin thread of light that stretched from East to West as though pulled. Then, it snapped, simultaneously casting a dazzling light over the men and emitting a hollow boom that caused Riddick to turn away in an effort to protect his ears.

When he turned back, she was standing before him. Her form was in relief, and nearly colorless, but it was her.

All of his thoughts culminated in one word.

"Jack."

"No, Riddick."

He raised a brow.

" 'No', what?"

"I can't go with you. My place is here."

In response, Riddick silently reached out a hand.

"Can I touch you?"

She sighed and nodded, reaching out to interlock her fingers with his. When she did so, he wrapped his fingers around her wrist and yanked her toward him. With his other hand, he ripped off his goggles and forced her chin upwards until their eyes were locked.

"I come all the way across the fucking universe, and you tell me 'no'? Fucking kid." He spat. "Your place is with me. I don't care what you think you want."

He loosened his hold when she swallowed painfully. A tear trickled down her face and she put her arms around him. Riddick stopped, casting a dark look at Zhylaw. The man was nowhere to be seen. When he was assured that the man was gone, Riddick returned the embrace.

"We've both been given a second chance," she mumbled into his chest.

"I know," Riddick answered, straining to keep the frustration from his voice, "we better get going."

"You can't take a spirit through that gate."

She looked back to the second gateway.

"and you can't take a body through that one. This is the only place we can meet."

Riddick clenched his teeth.

"Have you tried?"

He felt her sigh against him.

"We've only got enough time to say goodbye. Now listen; I want to tell you something."

Though Jasmine couldn't move, she felt the wave of nausea sweeping up from the pit of her stomach. Toal was leaning over her, contemplatively running a hand through her hair. When his hand began to travel downward, her abdomen heaved reflexively.

"What do you think you're doing?" she hissed with the tiny bit of authority she could muster.

"Reclaiming my rightful place…and something for my trouble."

With that, he laid hold to both of her hips, roughly dragging her body towards him. The floor chafed her back, and her breath came in frenzied gasps.

"It won't count – if I couldn't fight back," she managed to pant between breaths, belaying her knowledge of the ancient custom.

"It'll wear off after I'm done – your word against mine. Who do you think they'll believe?"

Her shirt tore beneath his hands and he reached into her undershirt. His hands were rough and cold. The stupor lessoned slightly, and Jasmine gave a full-bodied roar of helpless fury. Toal grunted in appreciation.

"I'm beginning to see why he kept you around –"

He reached for her belt.

"Why he hasn't touched any of our women –"

The buckle came loose and his fingers skimmed beneath the waistband of her trousers.

Something pounded against the door, accompanied by a collective grunt. The sound came again.

Both jerked toward the noise. Toal bit his lip.

"Guess this'll have to be quicker than I thought. Try not to scream too loudly."

He yanked at the fastening on her pants; two buttons went flying, sounding with a ping against the wall.

_No!_

Jasmine tried to cry out, but Toal's had slid upward, fastening around her throat and squeezing. Her lungs spasmed convulsively, and she saw him freeing himself from the confines of his own pants.

_No...Jehovah, please_ –

She had no flowery words, just the silent outcry and the desperate hope that help would come. In the back of her consciousness, she heard the men battering against the door. She saw the lustful, murderous look in Toal's eyes.

Time seemed to slow down again, though Jasmine was in no position to fight. She felt the fierce pounding of her heart; her carotid artery throbbed against Toal's thumb. There was a faint vibration in the back of her skull. It began to build, thrumming until she could feel it in her bones.

An eerie calm overtook her.

She blinked, surprised, and then frowned when she saw the shock echoed in Toal's face. The dark eyes gazed upon her, then went wide, then wider, until it seemed his eyes would bulge from the sockets. She heard a faint pop as if through a dense fog.

His eyes went glassy, then distant, then blank. Abruptly his hand released her throat, and he fell toward her, bouncing off of her body and thudding to the floor.

Jasmine lay there, stunned. Instinctively, she tried to place a hand upon her aching throat. She sobbed in relief when the limb moved.

Rolling onto her side, she curled into a ball, vainly trying to pull her ripped shirt closed. She scrambled back when she found herself looking into Toal's lifeless face.

The next pound upon the door buckled the metal. Jasmine hurried to try and stand. The Necros would never see a Furyan huddled in fear.

After several more tries, the door flew off of its hinges, gouging a scratch into the wall as it fell. Necromonger soldiers rushed into the hallway, Vaako at the head, weapons drawn. They stopped when they saw Jasmine standing over Toal's body. Vaako looked genuinely shocked to see his banished comrade.

Despite the pain radiating through her throat and chest, Jasmine spoke,

"Thanks for coming for me. How did you know?"

"Mara," Vaako answered quietly, "she thought you'd been killed."

_And she found a way around our rule_.

On a better day, the thought would have made Jasmine smile. Instead, she watched as Vaako surveyed the body. He knelt on one knee, then looked up at her.

"He tried to rape you."

It was a statement, not a question, and Jasmine raised an eyebrow, confused. Then, she sighed. Toal's pants were still pulled down to his knees.

"He was unsuccessful," she responded finally.

Vaako nodded grimly. There was no appropriate response, so he was silent.

After a moment, he asked,

"How did you kill him? I don't see a wound."

Jasmine frowned, scratching the back of her head.

"I don't know," she mused.

Vaako's mouth drew into a thin line.

"May I order an autopsy?"

Jasmine nodded. She was curious too.

Vaako and the soldiers appeared to have the situation in hand, so she left to find Mara.

* * *

"You givin' up on me, Jack?" Riddick queried quietly as she clung to him.

"I'm not her."

He rested his chin atop her head.

"I know. I'm different too. Thought we went through this."

"No. You don't understand –"

"There's nothin' you can say to make me leave you here."

Riddick pulled back from the embrace, keeping hold to the woman's wrist.

Suddenly the mist rose and grew in thickness. He felt her arm beneath his hand, but he could no longer see her.

"Someone's coming," he heard her explain faintly.

The air seemed to take on a life of it's own, turning into fierce wind that whipped against Riddick's face. It felt strong enough to lift him off the ground. He felt her arm jerk and extend, lifting his own arm in the process. Peering intently through gaps in the fog, he saw that she _had_ been lifted off the ground. Quickly, Riddick grabbed her other arm, but she was being pulled away from him.

"Riddick, you have to let go! You'll get sucked in!" she cried.

He shook his head resolutely.

"Let me go!" she yelled again.

"If you can't come with me, I'll go with you!" he yelled back, allowing himself to be dragged toward the second gates.

She knew he'd keep his promise, so did the only thing she could. She turned her hand, pinching the vulnerable tendon on the underside of Riddick's wrist. Involuntarily, his grip loosened, and she was wrenched away from him.

When the fog settled, she was gone.

He stood silently for a moment, readying to summon her again.

"It doesn't work that way, Riddick."

He turned, disgusted at the sound of Zhylaw's voice. He was surprised to see another man standing beside him: Toal.

"Your bitch did this," the man sneered, "just as I sent her to the afterlife."

Riddick took step a forward, shiv reappearing in his hand, but Toal didn't cease his taunting.

"I finally understand what you saw in her though. She felt like velvet inside – "

Riddick roared, flinging the blade. It passed right through Toal's spectral self.

"Fucking lucky you can't die twice." Riddick snarled.

"Go," Zhylaw spoke to his former soldier. The man vanished instantly.

Riddick didn't wait to hear what else the former Lord Marshall would say. He would find out if Toal's words were true, but he would most certainly return.

* * *

Jasmine's repeated lectures had finally been heard. Mara and the Elemental were undoubtedly halfway to Aereon's homeworld. Both women had thought it best for Mara to be kept ignorant of the destination.

She stumbled at first, but eventually the agency of her limbs returned and she strode toward the chambers she and Mara shared. The door slid open at the touch of her hand.

"Aereon," the words came in a breath, "what – "

The Elemental began to speak, but Jasmine stopped listening when the scent hit her nose. Her eyes swung to the floor. She was standing in blood. She made a choked sound and rushed to the bed.

"Mara – no…"

Weakly, the girl turned when she heard the voice. Jasmine gasped in relief. She'd thought the girl was already dead. Still, she was very close. The handle of a knife protruded from Mara's side; the blade was presumably still lodged within.

It was all Jasmine could do not to burst into tears, so she bit the inside of her lip until it bled. Settling onto the bed, she showed no regard for the blood soaking into the mattress and her clothing.

"That blood on the floor…it's Jerrin's. He has my fan too…buried in his chest."

The dark humor made Jasmine smile in spite of her tears. Tenderly, she smoothed Mara's hair.

"And he'll be found, or at least his body," Jasmine answered, the pride obvious in her voice. "You did _so_ well."

"Not well enough. It has three blades…opens once it's inside," Mara's continued, her voice growing faint.

Jasmine took a panting breath as she saw the light leaving the girl's eyes.

"Aereon, where the hell are the medics?"

"I already called them," the Elemental spoke softly. "They wouldn't come."

"WHAT?"

"Their services are reserved for the Lord Marshall and his officers. Any other treatment has to be approved by the Lord Marshall himself."

Jasmine's fan swung open with a cling.

"I'll kill them one by one until someone helps her!"

She leapt from the bed, heading for the door.

"Jasmine…no more killing. Please stay with me."

The quiet request stopped the Furyan in her tracks. She immediately returned to the girl's bedside. Mara sighed her thanks, and her eyes drifted to the ceiling. Jasmine's tears flowed then. Mara stretched a faltering hand and softly stroked Jasmine's wrist.

"Don't cry, dear Jasmine. I cannot feel the pain."

There was no stopping it then. Jasmine wept openly, not caring that Aereon saw. She latched onto Mara's hand with both of her own, whimpering quietly.

"Please. I need help – " her chest heaved and a thick lump rose in her throat, but she choked it back down.

"I need help…I need help…"


	14. Mutations and Miracles

A knock sounded upon the door and Aereon went to answer it, leaving Jasmine free to stay by Mara's side. When she beheld Lord Vaako at the door, Jasmine immediately nodded for him to enter.

"This is most unfortunate," he said upon beholding the mortality of Mara's wound, "but the medics are correct in their denial of treatment. Normally, such responsibilities are designated to an officer, but the Lord Marshall was so anxious to be underway…I tried to advise him – "

"I'm sure you did. If it's any consolation, he wasn't listening to anyone."

"It is not," Vaako replied, and Jasmine felt encouraged that at least _someone_ was on her side.

Mara took a faltering breath, and Jasmine started, anxiously leaning forward to check her pulse. It was faint, but steady.

"I can't just sit here while she bleeds to death internally," the Furyan groaned, rising from her seat to pace the circumference of the bed.

"Has Jerrin been found?" she asked, her hand moving unconsciously to her fanblade.

Vaako blinked, then nodded brusquely,

"We were able to keep him alive long enough to find out that he harbored Toal until they could act. The plan was for both men to 'reclaim' their positions by murdering the persons who'd taken them," he made a small gesture toward the two women, "They assumed the Lord Marshall's absence would give them an advantage."

He looked up to see Jasmine staring at him strangely.

"And Jerrin acted alone?" she asked slowly.

"Yes," Vaako responded immediately. Then he reached into his armor, drawing out a bejeweled fan.

"I believe this belongs to Mara. It's a beautiful weapon," he complimented as he handed it to Jasmine.

"Thank you for cleaning it. The last thing she needs to see is more blood."

Presuming Vaako's business complete, she turned her attention back to the unconscious Mara.

"Lady Jasmine."

The Furyan jerked her head toward the commander. Her name sounded so strange coming from his lips.

"Yes, Commander Vaako," she was careful to maintain the formality he'd set.

"My medical knowledge is extremely limited, but while our law does not give Mara access to treatment, there is nothing barring you from access to medical supplies. And being that the Lord Marshall holds you in a place of honor, I doubt he would object if you placed Mara in his medical facility. It's attached to his chambers."

Jasmine frowned. She'd explored Riddick's rooms as much as she could, and she'd never seen any facility. Well, that didn't matter. If Vaako had said there was a med bay in his bathroom she would have taken Mara there.

"Can you show me the way?" she asked quickly.

He strode to the room's console, pulling up a set of the ship's schematics. He indicated the exact position of the facility, and with the press of another button, he summoned attendants. They soon appeared. A hover dolly, converted to a makeshift bed, floated between them.

Gingerly, the men slid Mara onto the contraption, and the group left.

Jasmine let the others proceed, then moved to bring up the rear. She didn't even notice when Aereon dropped back to walk with her. Lost in thought, she conjured every possible solution that she could. Suddenly she stopped, her face alight.

"Vaako," she yelled forward to the man.

The hover dolly stopped, and he turned.

"Where's the cryostasis chamber?" she asked eagerly.

Though she was unable to help Mara now, they could put the girl in cryosleep until Riddick returned – or at least until the date he was supposed to.

Vaako's face fell when he saw the girl's excited look.

"I'm afraid we do not have one. This ship is large enough to sustain the congregation while awake. There simply isn't enough room to have cryopods for all the people aboard.

"Oh. Of course not," Jasmine mumbled despondently. She cast a furtive glance at Aereon, but she saw nothing but her own despair.

The rest of the walk was shrouded in silence.

When they reached the Lord Marshall's chambers, Jasmine punched the code into the panel and then followed the others in. Vaako led the way, following the rooms along a turn that had missed Jasmine's scrutiny. They soon stood in a room that appeared to double as a lab and a med bay.

Once Mara was transferred to a proper gurney, Jasmine went at once to a sink and began to scrub her hands. After she had washed all the way up to her elbows, the Furyan grabbed a stack of sterile gauze and went to check on Mara's wound. Carefully, she placed the dressing around the wound and the knife handle, though outward bleeding was no longer a threat.

As Jasmine worked, Aereon stepped backward toward Vaako.

"Jasmine told me she was shot with a weapon that caused paralysis."

Vaako, turned, his brow furrowed inquisitively.

"I was working on such a weapon – with Toal," he added more quietly, "it disappeared when Toal did. I was preparing to start again with a new gravitron. Lady Jasmine didn't tell me about any weapon."

The woman looked up when she heard her name. When Aereon explained the nature of their conversation, Jasmine affirmed Aereon's statement.

"What does it matter?" she queried finally.

Apparently, Aereon had a solution of her own.

"Vaako, exactly how does the weapon induce paralysis?"

"Well, it's a combination of factors. It blocks neuron pathways, so that the limbs don't receive impulses from the brain and –"

He stopped cold, grabbing for his communicator. He flipped it open.

"Bring me the gun that was found with Toal's body," his ordered, words clipped and hurried.

Both women were looking at him. Jasmine's eyes were confused; Aereon's were calm and sure.

"It slows down the rate of blood flow," he finally finished.

Jasmine inhaled and then exhaled sharply. Fresh tears sprung to her eyes and she moved to face Aereon. She searched the Elemental's face, unable to articulate gratitude, suspicion, or any other feeling.

"I don't care how you knew. I owe you a debt," she was finally able to say.

"So the balance tips in my favor," the older woman responded softly.

"Let us hope it tips in hers." Jasmine looked back at the gurney.

While Vaako waited for the gun, Aereon and Jasmine familiarized themselves with the room, organizing the array of surgical tools and supplies. There were scalpels and syringes filled with various fluids. A drawer revealed empty pint-sized bags made of thick plastic and attached to long coils of tubing.

_And Riddick thought they didn't do blood transfusions,_ Jasmine mused angrily.

Vaako soon returned, charging up the weapon while reaching for the trigger. He cautioned the women to stand aside, and two of his men moved toward the gurney. Kneeling so that they were out of the line of fire, they each took hold of the gurney's legs, insuring that the blast wouldn't knock it and Mara into the wall. Taking careful aim, Vaako squeezed the trigger. Jasmine winced, remembering her all too recent encounter with the weapon.

Another check of Mara's pulse showed that the "operation" had been successful. Her pulse, though still steady, had slowed considerably. Vaako leaned the weapon against the wall. After a moment of consideration, he removed a glove and raked a hand through his hair.

"We had just begun to test this. I don't know how many blasts she'll be able to take, or how long we can keep her under safely."

Jasmine nodded her assent, then added,

"I doubt we'll be able to keep this up until Riddick returns," and she couldn't help but think, _or doesn't_, "but we have nothing to lose. This action is better than no action."

All were in agreement, then, and Vaako moved to take his leave. Before he did, though, he asked Jasmine to step outside and speak with him.

"I took the liberty of sending for a meal," he said once they were in Riddick's main chamber. "and the medics would be more than happy to address _your_ injuries."

Jasmine shook her head profusely.

"Thank you for the gesture, but I'll abstain. I will not take treatment for a surface wound while they stand aside and let Mara die. And I'll be fasting as well. I need to pray."

She paused, then concluded,

"The Elemental may be hungry, though."

Vaako acknowledged her thanks, and continued with the rest of his address.

"They've begun the autopsy on Toal. It's not yet complete, but they're certain of how he died."

Jasmine tilted her head curiously and Vaako concluded,

Cardiac failure. His heart – it was split open inside his chest like a child bursts a balloon."

Though Jasmine carefully masked her features, her eyes still betrayed a great deal of shock. Aside from taking life, she knew the gift she'd been born with, the parlor trick, really, and bursting a man's heart from the inside was _not_ it.

She quickly averted her eyes from Vaako's earnest and intrigued gaze. His voice fell to a near whisper,

"Do you _all_ possess such power?" he asked, almost hungrily. Unbidden, his mind flashed to Crematoria. Riddick hadn't laid a hand on any of them either. His eyes narrowed. He hadn't seen any light from beneath the door, but who knew how long the girl had been inside with the body?

"My only power is the strength of my sword. You've seen what _that_ can do."

Her answer clearly ended the conversation, and Vaako took the cue.

"Vaako," she called when he was almost to the door. He turned to look at her.

"Tell the medics that they aren't to breathe a word of this. I know I needn't worry about _your_ loyalty."

"Of course," Vaako answered as he left.

Once he was outside the door, he grabbed the nearest convert in servant's garb.

"Find my wife and bring her to our chambers," he ordered.

He and Dame Vaako had a great deal to discuss.

Jasmine and Aereon took turns keeping vigil by the young Necromonger's bedside. The night wore on slowly, and when she wasn't with Mara, the Furyan split her time intermittently between dozing and praying. She couldn't have relayed the time if her life depended upon it. All she knew was that they'd paralyzed Mara twice more since the initial administration. Each blast was less effective; the girl's heartbeat grew more and more faint.

At some point, Jasmine dragged herself into the facility to take Aereon's place. The Elemental spoke,

"Jasmine, I'm perfectly all right. Your day has been much longer than mine."

The Furyan tried to wave her away.

"If she is to die, I must be here."

"Fine," Aereon said, offering a compromise, "lay down on that gurney, there, and I'll yell if something changes."

Despite her exhaustion, Jasmine was amused.

"I didn't know that Elementals yelled."

"We do what we must."

Sleepily, Jasmine dragged a gurney until it stood next to Mara's. Carefully, she climbed onto it and lay down. She was asleep as soon as her head hit the mattress.

"Jasmine."

The Furyan opened her bleary eyes, and then snapped awake when she realized that Aereon was shaking her.

"Mara," was the first word out of her mouth. She turned rapidly to her left, nearly upsetting the gurney in her rush to look at the younger woman.

Eventually, she realized that Mara was fine, or that there had been no change, at least. She finally paused, took a breath, and asked the Elemental what she needed.

"Some men have come from the flight deck. They are waiting for you outside."

Before Jasmine could ask why, Aereon continued,

"Apparently, there is a ship trying to board with the Armada. A young man is demanding to see you. He's asking for you by name."

Jasmine gave a lurch, causing the gurney to fold, careening to the floor.

"Oh my God. It's not possible."

"They decided to ask you about it instead of simply shooting him down."

When Jasmine managed to climb off of the collapsed bed, her hands flew to her hair, fisting it at both temples. She began to pace.

"There is absolutely _no way_– "

"Apparently, there is, but you should check to make sure," Aereon spoke, the voice of reason in the midst of chaos.

Finally, Jasmine nodded, looking down at her disheveled appearance. After an attempt to finger comb her mane of hair, she gave up, taking off for the flight deck at a full run.

The place was abuzz when she arrived. Vaako and Scales had also been summoned, and they stood waiting for her. After greeting her, Vaako inquired after Mara's welfare. He received the news with a grim face, and Scales always seemed so sober there was no way to be sure. Donning his helmet, Scales turned to reopen a communication screen.

"This man is asking for permission to board. He claims that you will permit it," he said, punching some buttons into the console.

He motioned for Jasmine to step closer, and she did, stopping once she was before the screen. At her nod, Scales brought up an image.

Jasmine lost count of the times she had cried or nearly cried that day. Before her was one of the most welcome images she'd seen in quite a while.

Deep brown eyes – dark brown hair curled tightly to his head - Skin, tawny, like a lion's, or a freshly poured layer of melted caramel - A tight, lean frame with the suggestion of musculature beneath.

A combined look of relief and worry marred his features when he saw her, causing a network of lines to wrinkle his brow, particularly the skin between his eyes.

When Jasmine spoke, it was to the helmsman.

"Let him in."

As they directed him to land, Jasmine ran to the docking bay. After a few moments he emerged. He was jogging at a decent clip, despite the heavy pack slung over his shoulder and the metal case he carried in one hand. He stopped when he saw her, glancing around at the stir they'd caused. Even though it was very late, a decent crowd had come out to watch. Jasmine stepped forward until she was within earshot, saying,

"Follow me."

He did so without a word, hurrying behind her until they were out of sight of the congregation. When the way was clear, he dropped his burdens, clasping her to him so tightly that it pushed the air from her lungs. She returned the embrace, throwing her arms around his neck and burrowing her face into his shoulder. His hand moved up to cradle the back of her head, and he murmured deep and soothingly into her ear.

Jasmine was soon seized by the task at hand, however, and she abruptly pushed back.

"How?" was all she could muster.

"Shirah – when she felt your distress she knew where to send me."

Jasmine looked alarmed.

"Her power grows," and exponentially, it seemed.

"Yes," the man responded making quick observations of her person. "Shirah said that she'd seen you and you were badly hurt. We thought that Zhylaw – "

"But how did you get here so quickly?"

"You needed me," was his simple response.

Clearly he was confused, as a surface examination showed a mere few cuts and bruises. Jasmine clasped one of his hands, pulling him in the direction of Mara's room.

"No, I'm fine, but there is someone who desperately needs your help. Please –"

Immediately, he released her hand, grabbed his bags and followed her to the medical facility.

Aereon glanced up sharply when they arrived, but returned Jasmine's nod. Her companion, however, stopped abruptly where he stood, his lips pursing into a tight heart shape.

"You brought me here to help an Elemental?" his voice was soft, calm, a clear indication that a burning rage laid just beneath the surface.

"No," Jasmine assured him. _It's much worse than_ _that._ "I brought you here to help _her_."

Placing his packs on a nearby table, the man approached the gurney, took one look and jumped back as though he'd been burned.

"_You brought me here to help a_ _**NECROMONGER**_?"

There was no denying that she had much to explain, but now there was no time.

"She isn't like them," Jasmine reasoned.

He fisted a hand in his thick hair.

"Check the neck, Jasmine. She's _just_ like them!"

He turned and stormed out of the room. Jasmine hurried to follow, casting a slightly apologetic look at the hapless Elemental.

"You leave me, to keep company with _both_ of the enemies of our people? My God, but you don't do anything halfway!" he yelled once she joined him.

"One – I did not leave you. Two – those women are not our enemies. Their people, perhaps, but I'm forced to admit that there are exceptions – "

"Their leader slaughtered _our_ people!" he bellowed, referring to the Necromongers.

"Yes, and he's been slaughtered in kind," she said quietly, trying to appease him.

"What?" A smile of disbelief graced his features. Then, "Did you –"

"No. Another – another Furyan. An _Alpha_. I'm certain of it."

His shock continued.

"Who is he? _Where_ is he?"

"He left – for Underverse. I'm waiting to see if he'll return, and hopefully, to convince him to return with me."

At that, his face fell and he took a step back.

"Engineering the killing of our people's greatest enemy and discovering an Alpha Furyan. That would be _something great_ indeed."

The look upon his face was the worst she'd ever seen him wear: a wretched mix of anger, grief and heartache. His lips pursed until they made a tiny heart-shape.

"You are wrong, Mattathias, but not about the fact that I need you."

Jasmine looked back to where Mara lay.

"Her own people refuse her treatment. If you don't help, she will die, and it will be my fault. She did the Furyan a service, and he asked me to guard her in his absence. Someone tried to kill the both of us today. I didn't get back in time to save her…"

Her tears came again, and Mattathias immediately drew her close. She looked up into his face.

"Think of it as a gift," she placed a hand in the middle of his chest, "for your bride."

Immediately he clasped her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm.

"Beloved," he breathed, eyes alight.

Then he stepped out of the embrace and strode back into the medical facility.

Jasmine was quickly confronted by a surprised Aereon and the sound of a door slamming shut.

"His name is Mattathias," she responded to Aereon's bemused expression, "he's a kinsman and a gifted healer."

She paused, looking toward the door.

"We're to be married."


	15. Breaking Point

Jasmine startled awake at the sound of an opening door, wincing as she bumped her head against the wall. Aereon awakened more gracefully, rising to hear Mattathias's words. He cast a leery glance at the Elemental, his hand straying to the bandage on his arm.

"She was badly in need of blood," he spoke, answering Jasmine's question before she could ask. "Giving my own was the easiest thing."

"Of course," Jasmine nodded.

Those Furyans born with a healing gift were identifiable on a genetic level; their blood contained no markers. Still, to give such a gift to one outside of their people was unheard of, and Jasmine was both humbled and honored by his action.

He shook his head imperceptibly, staving the profusion of thanks he knew was coming.

"She's sleeping now. I've got her on meds."

His news delivered, Mattathias turned back to the facility, knowing Jasmine would eventually follow.

She did, after a brief conversation with Aereon. Mattathias had his back to the door; he'd finished cleaning the knife that had wounded Mara, and he was examining it carefully. Silently, Jasmine came up beside him. When she beheld the weapon, she winced. The three blades opened in a baser version of her fanblade. Each blade curved in wavy line, which undoubtedly had done a great deal of tissue damage. Jasmine had seen a similar weapon; it was used for disembowelment. Jerrin must have meant to plunge it into Mara's front. That the girl had avoided such a strike was a great testament to her own skill.

"I'm greatly indebted to you," she spoke softly.

His hands moved to begin drying a freshly sterilized surgical implement.

"Love is earned, Jasmine, not bought." His voice was hard, and devoid of life.

"Oh, Mattì." Jasmine sighed. "I _did not_ run away from _you_."

"But you did run." He finally turned to look at her, and there was something unintelligible in his eyes. She was silent beneath his gaze. After a moment, he reached for her. She came willingly into the embrace, taking a quick glance at Mara. The girl was resting peacefully. "What's past is past, Jasmine," Mattathias mumbled into her hair. "Come home with me now."

"I promise you that I will," she paused, "once Riddick returns."

Mattathias nodded.

"That's a good idea. I'll stay and we can all go back together."

Thankfully, the man couldn't see her face; her eyes had gone wide in panic. She heard the stubborn tone of Mattathias's voice and knew that he and Riddick could _not_ meet, at least not on the ship.

"No!"

The word flew from Jasmine's mouth before she could temper it. She gritted her teeth, furiously chastising herself. She felt him tense and raced to clear the air.

"Mattì, he doesn't know you. There's no way to get in touch with him and let him know that you're here. He'll view your presence as betrayal. He does _not_ like surprises." The words tumbled forth in a frenzied rush, doing nothing to convince Mattathias that he need not be suspicious. "I think it would be best for you to meet him with the rest – if he comes back with me."

Mattathias raised a lone eyebrow, leaning back to look into Jasmine's eyes. He wasn't convinced, but he remained silent for the time being.

"You should let me tend to those cuts," he said, changing the subject for the time.

Grateful for the distraction, Jasmine nodded, reaching down to remove her over shirt. Respectfully, Mattathias turned his back. She'd gotten the shirt halfway up her chest when she had a sudden realization. Hurriedly, she pulled the shirt down.

"Um – they aren't really that bad. I can clean them myself with a little antiseptic. I can reach them with no problem – "

But she'd already given away too much. He turned to face her, undeterred.

"Take off the shirt, Jasmine."

She had seen that look before – on his face, on Riddick's face. It was a look that could not be argued with. She closed her eyes, and did as he asked.

She didn't see his face, but she heard his gasp, and the angry huff he expelled immediately after. Once the shirt was free of her person, she tossed it aside and came forward. She already knew exactly where he looked, and when his hand gripped beneath the tricep of her right arm, she was sure.

"Did he do this?" Mattathias asked, and then with more force, "Did _he_ do this to you?"

It took all of his restraint not to grab and shake her. Instead he pressed his thumb into the scar Jasmine bore from her first meeting with Riddick. The wound was healed, but it had left an ugly keloid, thick, wide, and discolored.

Jasmine looked down, toying with the hem of her undershirt.

"I stole into his bedchamber in the middle of the night. He thought I was a Necromonger – that I was there to take his life." She heard Mattathias's breathing increase, and saw the light pulsing on the skin of his chest. Her own mark responded automatically. "He could have put the knife through my chest, or cut my throat, but he gave me a chance to explain…and he let me go."

Her companion scoffed in disbelief.

"I see how well he cares for the women in his charge," Mattathias sneered, extending his gaze to include Mara. Shaking his head in disgust, he moved to place his hand over the new cut on his companion's arm. He took a deep breath, and Jasmine felt warmth flowing from his hands. She looked down to watch the soft blue light glowing from between his palm and her wound.

"It's too bad you couldn't just do that for Mara," she interjected, trying to lighten the mood.

"Even if my energy could heal a non-Furyan, I doubt I'd do so." Quietly, he tended to the rest of her injuries.

"Some pair we make. A man who saves lives and a woman who takes them," Jasmine mused.

"We both defend our people. That supercedes the rest." When he finished, Jasmine thanked him and reached for her other shirt.

"Something very strange happened when I was attacked," she said, finally broaching the topic of Toal's death. Perhaps Mattathias could help her puzzle out the mystery. When she had his attention, she retold the story, recounting the paralysis and the autopsy report, but carefully omitting the parts about Toal's true intentions.

"But how?" Mattathias asked, more to himself than anyone. "An Alpha Furyan would have manifested in childhood, or after their awakening - in your _friend's_ case."

Jasmine took the barb in stride; a fresh idea had come to her.

"Perhaps it is an extension of my gift."

Mattathias smirked.

"Gift? The only thing you could ever use it for was cheating at hide-and-seek."

Jasmine frowned, clenching her teeth at the remembrance of the long-standing joke, a joke at her expense. She and Mattathias certainly were not Alpha Furyans, who could manipulate Furyan energy in the most powerful of ways, taking out a squadron of soldiers single-handedly as the Wolf warrior, Umar and Jasmine's own father had done the night of the massacre. They were part of the lesser genus – the Beta Furyans, born with a variety of gifts that ranged in potency. Jasmine, however, was one of the least of the Betas. Her gift entailed nothing more than the ability to light a male Furyan's mark at will.

Jasmine blinked slowly, asking,

"And where is the mark located?"

"Over the heart – " Mattathias began to answer, and then stopped suddenly. His hands went to his hair as though trying to corral his racing thoughts. "But if – we'd have to test it – the implications – Demetrius is going to be beside himself," he laughed as he finally finished a sentence, clasping Jasmine's hands in his own.

Jasmine smiled at the reference to Furya's resident expert in all fields scientific, and the man who'd been the father figure in her life.

"Who would we test it on, Mattì? The only people on Furya are Furyans," she countered humorously.

"Actually," he responded, "we've had a recent addition."

She knew from the tone of his voice that the coming news was very important.

"Who?" she asked, her voice laden with suspense.

Mattathias paused for dramatic effect, then answered,

"Kenevar."

Her jaw dropped and she gaped at him.

"He's been found?"

Mattathias shook his head.

"He came to us – surrendered willingly. Guess he couldn't outrun the guilt anymore - _and_ he brought more Elementals with him. They're all being held in the compound until the rest of the elders are gathered."

Jasmine nodded. Since the massacre, the five Furyan elders who'd survived were never kept in the same location. They moved often, and some were even off planet. When the occasion called for it, they were assembled; often, this took some time.

Still, _this_ was certainly an incentive to come home as quickly as possibly. She would be loath to miss the execution of the Great Traitor. Jasmine relished the thought briefly.

"Then you should be going soon, Mattì. I promise I'll be right behind you."

In an instant, they had returned to their earlier argument.

"An execution. The thought of death draws you back, but not that of a life with the man who loves you."

Jasmine rubbed her hands against her face, a frustrated growl sounding in the back of her throat.

"Dammit, Mattathias - have I _ever_ lied to you?"

"No," he answered immediately, then, "but I bet you've omitted some things."

With a crash, Jasmine's fist came down on a countertop. She saw Mara's body jerk, but the girl didn't wake. Matthias's voice came in hushed, yet angry tone.

"That counter was sterile!" He swore under his breath as he searched for more cleansing solution, and Jasmine turned to go. Angrily, he asked what she was doing.

"I'm going for Aereon. I want her to stay with Mara while I _walk you out_."

She accompanied him further than she needed to, down the extension of hall that led to the docking bay. As he opened the door to his craft, she reached into a pocket, producing the cloth she'd used to collect some of Riddick's blood the day of his coronation.

"May I ask you for a favor?"

Despite his remaining anger, he sighed in acquiescence.

"Of course, Beloved."

She ducked her head at the word, and then held out the cloth.

"Get this to Demetrius. It's the Alpha's blood. If a relative can be found, it may be enough to pique his interest."

Abruptly, Mattathias snatched the material from her hand. When he spoke, his voice came as a hiss.

"Neither of us are fools, nor are we blind. I know that this _other_ has usurped a place in your heart." Livid, he stuffed the bloodied cloth into his pack. As he turned to go, he concluded, " I am not a man of war, like this mysterious Alpha, but I will challenge him. If you can't love a man of peace, then I will shed his blood."

Jasmine was stunned into silence. There was no way to save this parting, so she merely lifted a hand to wave goodbye. She started to walk away, but he was not finished with her.

"You may want to hold off on your choice until we know the results of this test," he spat, gesturing to the ensconced cloth. "Whatever clan you _think_ he comes from…he could be _your_ relative."

He climbed into the skiff, and as the boosters came on, Jasmine scrambled backwards to avoid being burned. Her hands clenched and unclenched in wordless rage. Once the docking bay was empty, Jasmine turned and stormed away.

* * *

Jasmine glanced at the chronometer on the wall of the terrarium.

_Two more days._

In two days, the month mark would be up, the month that she and Riddick had agreed upon. Absently, she opened and closed her fan. It felt strange being in the dome alone. It had been some time since she'd even had the illusion of solitude.

_And now I don't even have_ that, Jasmine smiled as she glanced to her left and returned Mara's wave. The girl was looking much better, especially recently. Talon had broken all tradition, actually taking the girl into the heart of the terrarium. Not even the Lord Marshall had ever been inside. The younger Necromonger beamed from her wheelchair, hands fisting excitedly in the coverlet draped over her legs. She kept up the excited posture until Talon wheeled her around a corner and out of sight.

Jasmine stood, raising her arms to lengthen and stretch tightened muscles. She swung her arms before her. Mattathias had done an excellent job with her injuries, but he could do nothing for soreness.

_Or scars_, she mused, pausing as she felt a disturbance in the air. She glanced at her mark; it glowed blue fire. She froze. _Like hell they're trying this again_, she fumed, turning, drawing her sword and opening her fanblade in one fluid motion.

But the room was empty. Instantly she crossed the floor, securing the outer door of the terrarium. Only Talon could control the inner door, but Jasmine did not plan to let anyone get that far.

"Bastard actually lied to me."

She froze again, though this time for an entirely different reason. She was afraid to look, afraid that she'd discover she was dreaming, but eventually the curiosity was too much.

She turned.

"Riddick –" was all she had the chance to say, because Riddick moved.

He moved faster than she had ever seen any living creature move in the entire stretch of her life. In the span of what felt like nanoseconds he was before her – or part of him. To think back on it made Jasmine shudder.

It was like his body separated, like air molecules came together to form his exact double. A gray streaming mass whirled across the room, coming to rest before her in the shape of his smirking face and muscled body. Looking through this projection, Jasmine could see a colored blob where Riddick had been standing.

She reached out to touch the floating image – to see if it could be touched – and her fingers felt skin.

Riddick was suddenly in color – a hair's breadth from her – and his lips were on hers.

The sound of her own weapons clattering to the floor was startling to Jasmine. Her rattled breath was trapped somewhere between an inhalation and an exhalation, sounding as a soft cry. The sound brought a moan of approval from deep in Riddick's chest, and his hands traveled downward to press upon her lower back, molding her body into his. Deftly his mouth slid over hers. A husky, foreign sound rasped in her throat when his teeth sank into her bottom lip.

Briefly, Jasmine wondered if she was going to pass out. He was taking all of her air – or she was giving it to him…She moaned again when his hands slid down, grabbed the backs of her thighs and lifted them to circle around his waist. Another step and the back of her head thudded into the glass wall.

The bump elicited a grunt of pain, and Jasmine reached for the sore spot, but Riddick leaned forward, pressing her harder into the wall as his hand found the spot instead. His hand fisted in her hair, roughly kneading the sore place. Her mouth opened further at the exquisite pressure, and it was enough for him to slip his tongue inside. Mercilessly, he probed her inner recesses; Jasmine clutched weakly at his shoulders. She was _definitely_ going to pass out.

Then just as suddenly, she was standing on her own feet. He grinned roguishly at her obvious confusion.

"A promise is a promise," he rumbled into her ear. Then he stepped back.

"Lord Marshall, you've returned!" Mara exclaimed happily as Talon wheeled her back into the first room. She bowed as much as she could from her seat. Talon echoed the sentiment with a proper bow.

Riddick gruffly acknowledged the salutations, then frowned.

"What happened?" he asked Mara, casting a strange look at Jasmine. In response, she walked out of the room, leaving Mara to fill him in.

Once outside, Jasmine could do nothing but pace, her hands alternating from grabbing handfuls of her hair to pressing upon her abdomen or the skin beneath her mark. Everywhere she touched she could feel her heartbeat. Every single one of her arteries was throbbing, from her throat to the vessels that spread blood to her toes. She could still feel the impressions his fingers had left on her legs, on her back.

What could it mean? Had he realized that his mission was a hopeless cause? If he'd been successful he would not have returned…but he'd seemed so _happy_, or his version of happy, and most of all, he'd seemed happy to see _her_.

_Really, really happy_. In this moment, nothing made sense. Breathing didn't even make sense. Jasmine sighed, finally taking a seat. Thankfully the body could handle breathing and other trivial things on its own.

The door opened, and she turned, biting her lip, then abruptly stopping as she remembered that Riddick had done so not ten minutes ago.

"Who the fuck did you bring on board?"

_What? Shit_.

"How dare you!" His gruff question gave Jasmine no choice but to respond in anger. "If you hadn't fucking _attacked_ me, I would have had the chance to explain!"

He yanked his goggles up and over his head.

"Yeah. You were real upset about that," he returned sarcastically.

"Fuck you," she spat.

Riddick plopped down beside her, replacing his goggles and taking several deep breaths to calm himself. Jasmine did the same, drawing her knees up to her chest and folding her arms across them. He scratched his head and she started, eyes locking onto the movement.

"Don't even – " Riddick started, but he chose to leave the sentence open. "Just tell me what happened," he finally stated. She did. He wasn't happy. "Spoutin' all this shit about loyalty. You're engaged and you would have fucked me in the terrarium if I'd have let you."

He rose, pacing to the other side of the hallway. Volume increased as anger grew, and Jasmine was not to be outdone by his hurtful words.

"I'd have fucked you? You underestimate me and overestimate yourself."

"The girl almost died because you got cold feet. How's that for overestimating?"

"Screw that – she lived because of me. _You_ put us in this position!" She seethed for a moment, then finished more sedated, "yes, I ran away. I could not consent to marriage with my mission unfulfilled. And there is much that you do not know."

Riddick nearly groaned in annoyance and frustration. Women were the most irrational things in the entire universe.

"I don't have time for this. Gave you plenty of chances to tell me the truth. Mara looks good, I'm back – don't need you anymore. I want you off my ship."

"Your _ship_? What of your people? Riddick, don't you see what the Necros have done to you? You're corrupted, infected – it's disgusting!"

Her words ignited his anger, and he flashed across the hall in a streak. Jasmine saw the gray carbon copy of a snarling astral Riddick fly toward her, and a second after, the physical Riddick had his hand around her throat.

Her eyes widened the tiniest bit, but she was not afraid. She'd learned enough about him to know he wouldn't kill her – at least not now. Still, his gesture was effective in quieting her. They glared at each other, then Riddick withdrew, though his hand went to his weapon as a warning.

If she was to be banished, Jasmine thought, she would go with a clean slate. She spoke, asking,

"Do you remember that I said I wanted to do something great?"

When he nodded, she continued, "that wasn't just a figure of speech. It's the way to break a binding promise – like a betrothal. To do something heroic, something big enough to affect Furyan life as a whole – for the better - earns the hero the right to choose her own path."

"So you were gonna kill the Lord Marshall," Riddick amended.

"Yes."

"And you'd get me to go with you – sweeten the deal," Riddick stated, his voice deadpan and calm.

"I did not know that you were here," Jasmine swore. "I planned to take him on - go home a hero, or not at all. Either way it solves the problem."

"He would've killed you. He almost killed _me_ - and I'm better than you. Stupid to throw your life away like that."

"It is not _stupid_ to die for your people," Jasmine seethed.

"But to die not to get married?"

Now he was amused, and at her expense. She hated his laughter more than she hated his anger.

"It is no stranger than to die trying to resurrect the dead."

He gave her one last look.

"Meant what I said earlier. Got no room for people who lie to me. Tell the girl goodbye."

Though the anger was gone from his voice, he was resolute. Jasmine was left to stare at his back as he stalked toward his chamber.

Once inside, he went straight to his console. All of that arguing had really gotten his blood going; he had a hell of an itch to scratch.

After their talk, Mara had cried for some time. Now the tears came anew as she watched Jasmine polish her weapons to a gleaming shine. Afterwards, Jasmine produced a whetstone, running it over the blades until they were sharp enough to split a hair. Once she was through, she sheathed the blades, crossing the short distance to where Mara lay in her bed.

Briefly, she touched the girl's forehead, leaning down to place a kiss upon it.

"Hopefully I'll be seeing you," Jasmine smiled. Then she stood up from the bed and walked out.

Four guards were posted outside of Riddick's chamber. They had been given the strict order that the Lord Marshall was not to be disturbed for any reason other than an attack on the armada. The doors were thick and nearly soundproof, suffocating practically all noise, but the men had seen the three concubines enter. There was no doubt as to what was happening inside.

And when they saw Jasmine's angry face, they figured that she knew too. There was the temptation to laugh; royal drama could be incredibly entertaining, but they held their peace, even when Jasmine demanded entrance.

"Sorry, my lady," one of the guards said imperiously, "we've got orders – no one goes through these doors."

"And if I go through you?" the Furyan offered.

The Necromonger soldiers did not respond, but she saw various jaws twitch, and that was enough. She was done being the butt of a fucking joke. Anger welled up in her chest – she felt that vibrating in the back of her skull – and suddenly the soldiers were clutching their chests and falling to the floor.

She gasped at seeing the strange extent of her "new" power. She reached down for the hollow in a soldier's throat. There was still a pulse. Jasmine sighed.

_Definitely still a Beta_. Then she was punching the code into the door. She opened it wide enough to slip inside, then shut and locked it with a slam.

"Lights to one hundred percent," she said loudly, hoping that the lights would flare before he could don his goggles. Disorientation would give her an advantage.

The disorientation wasn't restricted to Riddick. Contrary to the soldiers' belief, Jasmine had not known that Riddick had company – a lot of company. Two of the concubines rushed to pull up the blankets, but Riddick and the gorgeous red-haired woman were not at all ashamed of their nakedness. Still, Riddick allowed the remaining women to replace the bed dressing and cover themselves. The blankets loosely came up to drape Riddick's waist, but the modesty was pointless.

Jasmine had seen enough to cause a nearly purple flush to flood her neck and chest.

"Looking to join the party, kid?" he leered, running his tongue across his upper lip.

The laughter of his beautiful companions was a tinkling lilt that grated Jasmine's last nerve. With an angry wail she drew her sword.

"You said I would have lost to the Lord Marshall. Well now, you _are_ him," she sneered. "So let's find out."

Riddick's smirk was nothing short of wolfish.

"No thanks. I'm busy."

The concubines gave another knowing giggle, and Jasmine wanted to spit at them. Instead she gave them all her profile.

"Then I'll sweeten the deal," she continued disdainfully, repeating his words from that afternoon. "Fight me. If I win, you leave with me – tonight. If _you_ win – I'll tell you how Kyra planned to betray you."

She whirled, smiling at the rustling sound of Riddick hurriedly throwing aside the bed covers.

"I'll be in the training facility," she called over her shoulder as she walked away.


	16. Clash of the Furyans

He opened the door and was greeted with darkness. One hand palmed his shiv and the other lifted to remove his goggles. Looking across the training floor, he saw Jasmine painted in a series of streaky pinks and purples. She lifted a hand in greeting, waving with four fingers as her thumb retained its grip on her sword. Her smile, if it could be called so, was grim.

"Lights to thirty percent," he spoke, replacing his eyewear.

As Riddick walked toward the main floor, Jasmine widened her stance. Her free hand reached for the back of her trousers and revealed her fan blade.

He shook his head slowly.

"You do that to my men?" he asked, referring to the armed guard that had been stationed outside of Riddick's door.

Jasmine gave a small smile at the memory of her new power and responded the affirmative.

Riddick gave a tolerant sigh, and then produced a second blade, mirroring Jasmine's earlier action.

"Should have left well enough alone, little girl."

Jasmine raised her fanblade and struck it with the kitana. The angry metallic clang reverberated against the walls. She spoke in the ebb of the sound waves.

"I am not little – and you are not well."

Her response brought a short bark of laughter from the Alpha Furyan.

_And look who's talkin'._

"Whatever," he dismissed the remark, coming a few steps closer. "Now, we do this on one condition: when I win, you go before the Quasi-dead. I'm gettin' the whole truth this time."

The stipulation stopped Jasmine in her tracks. She had seen what those things could do. The Necros had chained Kyra to the platform; the monsters had reduced her to blithering, screaming, hysterics.

Jasmine gave a quick shake of her head, effectively clearing the memory.

"Fine," she responded, knowing full well that she'd put a blade through her own brain before she let those creatures have it.

A split second later they were racing to battle – Riddick flying and Jasmine running.

* * *

_The throne looks so small from up here_.

Mara had been unable to sleep after Jasmine's departure, rising to go for a slow walk through the ship. Restlessness had brought her here, to just outside the aviary. Talon and most of the birds were asleep now, so Mara had settled near the balcony. Raising herself as high as her weakened limbs would allow, she peered over the bar and down to the basilica. Many of the ships lights had been doused, but the throne was always fully lit.

She sighed, leaning down to rest her face in the crook of her elbow. Jasmine had promised that the fight would not be to the death, and that she would be cared for either way, but those two were such loose cannons…A tear dripped from her eye, splashing to the floor before she could dash it away.

"I hope you aren't planning to jump."

Despite the fact that she was still healing, Mara's blade was instantly opened, her stance primed for a fight. At the sight of Lord Vaako, she quickly stood down, breath whooshing in a sigh of relief. She'd had enough fighting to last her for the rest of her life.

Though his mind was filled with a cacophony of thoughts, Vaako still had room to be impressed. He'd seen Jerrin's body – the wound had been clean, true, made with a soldier's skill, and the girl's reflexes were outstanding.

"I wasn't," Mara stated sincerely, "I just couldn't sleep."

She paused for a moment and then revealed, "Jasmine is leaving tonight," and was surprised to feel her breath choke with tears.

After taking a moment to collect herself, she concluded, "She's asked that I go with her."

Vaako looked surprised, but not angry, which surprised Mara. The armada, in lieu of the Underverse, was life to the Necromonger. Excommunication from this place was to be banished to an irreparable half-existence, a fate worse than dying. Aside from the Threshold itself, or insanity, there was no reason for a Necromonger to ever leave it willingly.

"Do you think you will go?" he asked quietly, coming to stand beside her.

Silently, they each contemplated the floor below them. Vaako cringed when he heard the sound of Mara's tears increase. He had no handkerchief or soothing words to offer, so he roughly clapped an arm around her shoulders – a soldier's embrace. The forceful touch caused a soft cry of pain, and he cringed again, immediately lessening the pressure.

"I know that it is wrong, but my heart reaches out to a breeder."

"We were all breeders once," Vaako answered, speaking out into the distance.

"Yes, but Jasmine will not convert; she has chosen her own people instead. I have no place among them."

The true nature of her pain came to light when she concluded, "but when she leaves, I'll have no place at all."

Her tears flowed anew, then.

_You aren't the only person feeling lost, little one_…

He had a burden of his own to bear.

"How old are you Mara?" he asked, attempting to divert his thoughts.

The girl glanced up at him in shock. This was the first time she'd ever heard him say her name. His arm was still resting across her shoulders; suddenly it felt very heavy.

"I was sixteen when I converted."

By normal standards, Mara was now eighteen. Necromongers, however, thought in terms of strength rather than age. After enduring conversion, the aging process was greatly slowed, so the condition of a physical body didn't reflect one's age anyway.

"I was sixteen as well, though it was more than a decade ago."

He was looking down at her, and it made her feel strangely. She spoke to break the tension.

"And how old was your wife?"

"That's no longer a concern," he responded quickly.

Mara blinked at his brusque reply, but said nothing more. After a few more silent moments, she took her leave, moving slowly and surely toward the nearest lift.

He watched her retreating form, shaking his head in wonder.

_The heart of a warrior beats within that small frame_.

He called after her. She turned, and he released his burden.

"I executed my wife tonight."

Despite herself, Mara's jaw dropped in complete shock. As her movement was still impeded, he quickly closed the distance between them. She batted away his attempt at ministrations, however, stating,

"I'm just surprised. I'll be fine when I sit down."

Respectfully, he waited until she found a seat, then took one beside her.

"Lord Riddick will be angry," she said perceptively, and Vaako knew that Mara had long held suspicions against his wife.

"I've done him a favor. He would want her dead; she is. When did you know?" he asked.

Mara thought. She hadn't really known until just now, however, her memories suddenly made sense. Jasmine's strange behavior during their first journey to the training facility, that conversation with Dame Vaako at the funeral games, Toal's knowledge of their exact schedule, his access to the gun that had resided in Vaako's holdings – and Jerrin didn't seem to have the fortitude to attack anyone of his own volition.

"Until now, I had only an unconnected series of suspicions."

"Ah. Well, Dame Vaako had the courtesy to tell me the truth. She hid Toal, convinced he and Jerrin to join forces. By all rights, she would not have been connected to the crimes until Toal had killed the Lord Marshall."

He swallowed a lump of shame.

"Apparently she was going to kill me and then take her place at Toal's side."

Biting his lip until it bled, Vaako was barely able to quell a roar of frustration.

"I should have let Riddick kill her, torture her slowly…" he seethed.

Mara sighed in understanding.

"But you couldn't let that happen – not to someone you loved."

"My love for her died with her loyalty to me."

Despite the gloomy situation, his stubbornness made Mara want to smile.

"If I can love a breeder, you can love a traitor. Our feelings are honest – you needn't be ashamed."

His eyes bored into her again. Though Necromongers could not longer blush, Mara acknowledged the irony as her skin began to heat.

_Strong_ and _wise_.

"I'm content. It was not meant to be."

He surprised them both when he reached for her hand.

The only connection occurring in the training facility was that of two blades. Conversely, two well-matched opponents collided. Some time had passed, and the two were at a stalemate.

Despite her confidence in her skills, Jasmine was rather surprised that no one had drawn first blood, or more so, that Riddick had not drawn first blood. She thought back to the first time she'd scene him fight. He'd cut the Lord Marshall before the battle even began.

"You are _holding back_," she seethed through gritted teeth. "I will not do the same."

She saw a blur of light reflected in his eyes as he whirled past her, and she gasped, reaching up to touch the skin of her shoulder. Her fingers came away bloody. Eyes ablaze, she roared in anger, looking up to meet his smirking gaze. He shrugged.

"Get angry," he encouraged, "this'll be over even faster."

In a second he'd cut her again, and this one was deeper. She heard his gruff laughter.

_He toys with me_.

Jasmine's heart was already pounding, but she felt a fresh heat flushing her skin. Frantically, she took some deep breaths; she would make her anger an ally rather than an enemy. She struck her blades together again, using the sound to center herself. It was time to show him how a real Furyan fought.

He came at her again, and Jasmine had a sudden fleeting thought. She blinked, concentrating with all of her might, and felt the now familiar pressure building, vibrating so hard that she could feel it behind her eyes. Riddick did not falter, but she could suddenly track his movement, as if he'd slowed down. She wanted to shout in triumph, but was afraid to take her eyes off of him. As the mark on her own chest began to glow, she saw his mark shining back at her. Now she adverted her gaze so as not to betray her advantage.

The light and the astral blur came closer.

She slipped her fanblade back into its sheath.

The light and the blur came closer.

She drew back her fist.

A distinctive crack reverberated off the walls and was accompanied by Riddick's deep, surprised grunt. Standing across the room, he kept his eyes on Jasmine while gingerly reaching for his face. He pressed a testing finger to the skin beneath his eye and gave an imperceptible wince. She'd broken his cheekbone.

His eyes narrowed, but now the movement was painful, stoking his rage with fresh fuel.

After one look, Jasmine was assured that now, they'd be fighting for real. She barely had time to widen her stance before he was upon her, blades slicing so fast she could hardly keep up. He came in so close that she was reduced to using her fanblade as a shield. Her newfound power bought her enough time to drop her kitana in favor of a much shorter blade, but the concentration took more strength than she was able to spare.

Then just as suddenly as he'd appeared, he was gone from her sight. Jasmine knew better than to try and look for him. She immediately dropped to the floor, sweeping one leg outward in a wide circle in an attempt to be in two places at once. She exhaled triumphantly when her leg connected with a body. Riddick, suddenly visible, was falling toward the floor torso first, his legs kicked from beneath him. As he fell, Jasmine leapt to her feet, grasping hurriedly for her kitana, aiming to place the tip at his throat.

The precious seconds of diverted attention were enough. Though his physical body was bound to the laws of gravity, Riddick's astral self knew no such rules. He sent a silver stream of a projection hurtling up and forward. When Jasmine turned back, the astral blur stood behind her and it was too late to react. In vain she tried to dive out of the way, but he rematerialized before she could, applying the same move she'd just used.

Jasmine swore as she went down, slamming both arms onto the training mat to absorb the force of the fall. When Riddick followed her to the ground, she lost the grip on her kitana, but managed to hold onto the fan blade. Before she could strike, he drove his knee into her wrist, pinning it to the ground.

Struggling wildly, Jasmine brought her own knee toward her chest. Riddick was too far forward for a proper kick, so she aimed for a kidney. The move was anticipated, however, and Riddick's hands were immediately at her throat. When he squeezed, her chest lurched violently, mouth opening in a silent scream. With her left hand she swung across her body to strike his broken cheekbone. She hit her mark, and the pain was enough to make Riddick see stars. He cursed, and practically crushed the offending hand with his other knee. His hands tightened their hold, wringing tears from Jasmine's eyes.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear,

"Don't feel bad about losin'. Even I had some help."

She could feel the fog closing in, but his words sparked enough anger for her to make one last attempt at retaliation. Their marks glowed faintly, and Riddick felt a sharp pain in his chest, but it was gone as quickly as it came. Abruptly, Jasmine stopped moving, though her pulse continued to beat strongly beneath his fingers. When he was sure that she was unconscious, he released her, shifting back to remove his weight from her body.

Briefly, he stood over her, shaking his head at the bruises forming on her skin. He felt no pity, however, as he reached for his face again. The skin around his eye was already swelling. It was going to be a hell of a shiner, no matter how many cold packs he put on it.

Ignoring the pain, he leaned down and hefted Jasmine's unconscious form for the second time since they'd met. This time, however, he turned not for his chamber, but that of the Quasi-deads.

* * *

_my lord, we cannot begin until she is conscious._

Riddick glanced down from the lofty balcony, unable to stop his shudder at the sight of the withered beings. At his signal, Aereon had engaged the machine, and now she peered through the lattice. Jasmine, still unconscious, lay on the platform, arms bound by loops of chains draped through the metal work of two opposing Quasi-pools.

"Then wake 'er up."

The Quasi-deads made a sound that could have been a sigh or a groan, then they were silent, concentrating as one. Riddick folded his arms, eyes watching the air above the platform. One of Aereon's delicate hands came to rest on the latticework as the door and the walls began to thrum, making artificial ripples in the Quasi-pools. Suddenly Jasmine woke, with a gasp of a breath that brought her to a sitting position.

_SHALL WE BEGIN THE REGRESSION NOW, MY LORD_?

"Yeah. Bring up anything she knows about Kyra."

_scanning fresh memories_…

It took Jasmine only seconds to realize where she was. She tried to yank on her chains, but the thick metal was yanked to the ground once the Quasi-deads began. Involuntarily, she clenched her teeth, tilting her head back as much as she could to stare up at Riddick. She growled, but as the mind invasion began, the growl turned into a shriek loud enough to raise the dead.

"That's Jasmine! He's hurting her!"

Mara and Vaako had been talking quietly for some time, but at the sound of Jasmine's scream, Mara was instantly on her feet. The rush of pain in her side, however, quickly reminded her that she was not that mobile. The sound produced an equal reaction from Vaako, as his mind flashed back to Toal's attempt.

"Who, Mara?"

She didn't answer however, except to demand that he take her downstairs. He refused, reaching instead for his comlink.

"I can be there much faster than you can, and with a squadron of soldiers."

Immediately stepping into battle-mode, he strode away, heading for the nearest lift.

"Then carry me. Now."

The authoritative voice stopped him in his tracks. Vaako turned, and despite the fact that they were completely alone, he was unsure that Mara had been the one to speak. When he saw her face, however, he knew she had. Still, if Vaako was anything, he was a soldier, and when given an order, a soldier obeyed. He walked back, and after an awkward pause, scooped the adamant girl up into the crooks of his arms. Mara threw one arms across the back of Vaako's shoulders, but with the other she was reaching for her blade.

_***** Jasmine hidden behind a statue of a past Lord Marshall. She watches as Kyra is dragged into the Quasi-grotto, kicking and screaming. Zhylaw stares noncommittally from the balcony. Kyra manages to break away from the soldiers, grabbing a weapon and shooting three of them. After she is subdued, a soldier cuffs her across the face and is punched in return by Lord Vaako. _

"_She is not to be harmed," he hisses._

_Kyra is bound to the platform and the regression begins. The escape from Crematoria flashes past: her vision of Riddick's assumed death – the rescue from the sunrise – a confrontation with the guards – Riddick's arrival*****_

"Bastard," Jasmine moaned through still-clenched teeth as her eyes rolled backwards in her head. "I'll kill you…"

Riddick idly scratched the back of his neck.

"Keep going," he ordered the Quasi-deads, "I'm looking for conversations she had."

_she saw more,_ they responded, referring to the prostrate Jasmine.

_A CONVERSATION WITH AN ELEMENTAL…IN CREMATORIA_.

"Show me."

_*****Kyra sitting on the stone floor, leg elevated and splinted, steam billowing. Through the mist, another woman speaks. She is nearly Kyra's age, with light hair and a delicate, aquiline nose._

"_Kyra, I can wait. I don't wanna go without you."_

"_Don't be stupid. The timing's perfect - the solstice only comes once a year. It's too hot for them to go after you, even in the tunnels. Besides, my ticket out is on his way. You really think I'll be able to pass for you?_

_A saddened look crosses the other woman's features and she runs a hand through her hair._

" _Yeah. It's been years. He never really looked at me anyway. You remember where I told you?"_

"_I'll bring him straight to your door."_

"_And you'll get plenty for you trouble."_

_They both smile. The woman reaches down to grab Kyra in a tight embrace._

"_Wish me luck," she smiles, then walks out of the cell._

_Kyra calls softly to her retreating form._

"_Good luck, Jack."*****_

Time stopped.

Riddick grasped the railing with both hands, failing to notice that Aereon had quickly climbed the stairs and come to stand beside him. Both of them had forgotten Jasmine, who had renewed her attempts at pulling on her chains. In her rush, however, Aereon had not disengaged the machine, and Jasmine's bonds remained fast to the floor. As Riddick had not given the order, the Quasi-dead retained their hold. The mental link was sharper than nails, and Jasmine felt herself slipping.

_Not like this_, Jasmine thought bitterly, steeling herself for her last battle.

She was _not_ going to die at the "hands" of some withered freaks of nature – freaks of nature who couldn't lift a finger, much less a sword. She felt a stirring in the back of her mind.

_LORD MARSHALL, WE'RE GETTING ANOTHER_ _MEMORY_…

Unbidden, the memory flashed into focus.

_*****Jasmine stands in a sunlit pathway. There is little greenery. She smiles grimly at her companion, a tall, slim beauty with skin that shimmers in the light. Her hair, bound in an intricate series of ribbons, short leather skirt and revealing top indicate femininity, but the daggers bound at her waist reflect strength. She reaches to give Jasmine's hair a tug. _

"_Technically, it's still my job to protect you."_

"_My Lady, I am more than capable of protecting us both," Jasmine says softly, giving a deep bow. _

_Her companion frowns._

"_How many times have I told you not to bow to me?"  
_

"_A servant must show the proper respect for her leader…"_

"_You aren't my servant. You're my sister."_

_Jasmine puffs a short burst of air through her nostrils._

"_Our dear father doesn't seem to think so –"*****_

_we find_ Furyan _energy_, the Quasi-dead wailed.

Despite her agony, Jasmine smiled. Trying to use her power here would probably blow out the back of her skull, but it was better than having her memories rifled through like garbage. Rotating her wrists as much as the chains allowed, she gripped the metal links tightly in her hands. She summoned all the strength that she could, straining so hard that she could feel vessels bursting in her neck.

She roared, and the sound was commingled with the sounds of Quasi-dead wails, a door being thrown open, chains breaking.

When it was ascertained that the noise came from the Quasi-grotto, Vaako and the soldiers would not enter, but at this point, Mara had no regard for the rules. Fueled by adrenaline, Mara moved quickly into the chamber, blade drawn. Looking up to the balcony, she was just in time to see Riddick turn and walk out. Aereon remained frozen where she stood, Jasmine was in the process of divesting herself of the last of her chains. She looked impossibly haggard, but at the sight of Mara, she managed a smile.

"You charged in to save me," she said quietly, bemused.

"I've seen first-hand what they can do, and I don't think it's right – " at the sound of the word, Mara abruptly stopped talking, a slight look of fear crossing her features.

_I just spoke against my faith_…

Jasmine failed to notice her chagrin, as she concentrated on getting to her feet. Mara's attention was diverted as well as she looked at the Quasi-pods. The beings remained as they were, but they were strangely quiet. A liquid substance dripped to the floor, splashing quietly beneath one of the pods. She walked over to take a closer look.

"Lord Vaako," she yelled.

Instantly, he appeared, as did the twenty soldiers who accompanied him. A quick analysis determined that the substance was blood. Vaako disdained to touch the Quasi-dead, but another officer reached in to feel for a pulse. He shook his head subtly. Vaako looked closer.

"It's the male."

Mara looked to question Jasmine, but she was gone.


	17. Homecomings and Goings

**_AN: Belated Happy Holidays, everyone! And thank you SO MUCH for the wonderful reviews!_**

_

* * *

__Kyra isn't Jack._

_Jack is an Elemental_.

_Jack is_ **alive**.

Riddick had found the first empty room available and shut himself inside. He'd forgone the chairs, plopping himself on the floor to lay back, looking at the shimmering ceiling. His head was throbbing; the skin around his cheekbone had swollen to a sizeable lump, but he knew better than to touch it. This new revelation had come from absolute left field, and had probably increased his headache. He resisted the urge to press his palms to his eyes, forcing himself to be rational in spite of everything. After taking several deep breaths, he slowly sat up. As he was standing, there came a knock on the door.

"Riddick?"

The sound of Aereon's voice made him want to groan; the Elementals couldn't find a fucking Furyan on Furya, but she always seemed to be able to find him. He heard her call him again.

"Yeah," he spoke brusquely in reply as he opened the door and strode past her.

Despite his rudeness, Aereon remained ever the lady.

"And just what are you planning to do, Lord Marshall?"

Apparently she knew how to push his buttons as well; the title stopped him in his tracks.

"Looks like you're gonna get your wish. I'm comin' with you to Elementium - to find Jack."

"She's not there."

He paused.

"So you know her."

Aereon had looked quite assured for a moment, but now she seemed slightly apprehensive. After a slow nod, she finished,

"She's Kenevar's granddaughter. She went with him and the others to Furya."

Slowly, Jasmine trudged through the tunnel to the docking bay. When she reached it, she selected one of the smaller skiffs and engaged the panel to open the door. The entrance slid open with a soft hiss and Jasmine lifted her leg to step into the vehicle. The movement garnered a quiet moan and then a less delicate grunt as the rest of her tired form followed suit. Her body felt twice as heavy as normal. So did her heart.

At the sobering thought, Jasmine shook her head. This was no time for looking back.

"Jasmine!"

The sight of Mara brought a huge smile to the Furyan's face. The young Necromonger was carrying a bag and it looked heavy. Buoyed up by the shift in mood, Jasmine jumped back down to the floor. Her body quickly reminded her that she was injured. After a wince, she spoke.

"Are those all carbon copies of the same dress?" she joked, indicating Mara's bag.

"No," Mara laughed as she came to stand before her. "It's food." She paused momentarily, and Jasmine marked the sudden, rapid fall of the girl's features. "I figured you weren't thinking about it, and I didn't know how far you had to go. I thought you might get hungry and this way you won't have to stop and – "

Jasmine put up a hand to stop Mara's rapid speech.

"You speak as if you're not coming with me."

Now both women looked sad, though Mara's face was soon tinged with the softest blush.

"I think…that I have a reason to stay," was her subdued response. As if on cue, far across the room, Jasmine saw Lord Vaako step into the flight bay. She exhaled as the epiphany hit. She closed her eyes quickly, shocked at the sudden tightness in her chest and throat. Holding the bag with one arm, she threw the other around Mara in a fierce hug.

"I will _never_ forget you," she forced through a constricted throat and clenched teeth.

She felt Mara nod her head.

"Me too."

Jasmine glanced over at Vaako. He'd turned his back, though she had no idea whether it was due to respect or embarrassment.

After a long moment, the women pulled back from their embrace.

"Have a safe journey, my friend."

Her eyes filled at the use of the word, and Jasmine nodded silently. Then clasping Mara's hand one last time, she turned and hefted the bag into the skiff, climbing aboard after it.

The look on Vaako's face was one of concern and unease as he watched Mara wipe away a tear. As she had not spoken, however, he thought it best to follow her lead. When they reached the main hall of the ship, Mara stopped, turning to look at the commander.

"So what do we do now?" she asked softly.

He paused, then answered,

"Report to the Lord Marshall I suppose. He must know what I've done."

Mara nodded in agreement, turning to walk with him to the Lord Marshall's chambers, but Vaako held up a hand to stop her.

"The Lord Marshall may thank me for stopping this conspiracy, or he may punish me for acting without orders. If there are to be consequences, I don't want you to be a part of it."

Mara was still surprised that he could speak of executing his wife in such clinical terms. Her heart warmed considerably at his chivalry, but she shook her head to deny it.

"If anything, you have proven your loyalty beyond a shadow of any doubt. He will not punish you – and I'm not leaving. The last thing either of us need right now is to be alone."

Her smile bespoke of confidence and serenity and Vaako had no choice but to acquiesce.

"All right."

Together they moved toward the staircase, but the action was not necessary. Riddick was striding down the stairwell, dressed in a traveling cloak with the hood thrown back. Aereon trailed behind him, though her face was flushed with the effort of keeping up.

Mara and Vaako simply stood; they had learned long ago not to ask questions of their leader. As Riddick came within earshot, he asked,

"She leave yet?"

Mara replied the negative, and Riddick nodded.

"Good. Vaako."

The commander snapped to attention, and Riddick concluded,

"You run things 'till I get back." After glancing at Mara, he added, "and you help."

As they rushed to the docking bay, neither Riddick nor Aereon paused to witness the utterly shocked looks that crossed the Necromongers' faces.

Jasmine sighed, sinking back into her seat as she heard the spacecraft's doors slam home. Then she began to execute the standard safety checks, her fingers dancing skillfully across the control board. She waited for the diagnostics test to finish, looking over at the vid screen as it flashed and asked for her destination coordinates. She smirked.

"Like hell you're getting that."

As the diagnostics completed, she buckled her flying harness and prepared to gun the engine. Just then, she heard the buzz of the console as it informed her that the ship's doors had been breached. Jasmine's muscles groaned as she demanded their performance, slipping out of her harness, grabbing a gun from beneath the console and unsheathing her fan.

She groaned again when she faced the doorway and saw Riddick, and Aereon standing behind him. Instead of speaking however, she simply turned to replace her weapons.

"I need to hitch a ride," he ordered her gruffly.

"I'm only making one stop," Jasmine answered as she bent to reattach the gun to its hidden harness.

"We're going to the same place."

That garnered all of Jasmine's attention, and she turned to stare at him in disbelief. Her eyes narrowed, though, when she realized that Aereon would be going to Furya as well.

"Why?" she finally asked.

"Jack's there."

While Jasmine had been half-conscious during her own regression, she distinctly remembered Kyra's, and the bounty hunter whom Kyra had spoken with. After a moment, she shrugged. She'd traveled the universe to get revenge for her people; this would be a much shorter distance. Besides, if it would get him to come home, the reason was of no consequence. She cast another glance at the Elemental.

"There's only two seats up here," she said, obviously indicating that she would rather not share the cockpit with Aereon.

"It's just as well. I'd prefer to rest in the back. I assume you have a bed?" the Elemental asked.

Jasmine nodded, and Aereon disappeared into the back room.

She looked on as the older woman departed, then began to move around the console, disabling homing beacons and surveillance as she went. Riddick seated himself in the co-pilot's chair, lounging comfortably as he watched her.

After a moment, she completed her task, then returned to her seat. Strapping herself in, she reengaged the ship and launched into the sky.

For some time, all was silent. Jasmine concerned herself with various controls, though she could not ignore the sound of Riddick's deep breathing. After a moment, she turned. He was looking at her, and not at all ashamed to be seen doing so.

Unconsciously, her hand went to the welt on her neck. She rubbed it and winced, garnering a small smile from her companion. The movement caused the pain in his eye to reawaken, and forced a grimace out of him. Jasmine tried to act as though she hadn't seen, but she couldn't hide the knowing smile on her own face.

_Some pair we make_, she thought humorously, and the moment was eased for them both.

"Would you like to know what happened to me, to my family?" she finally asked.

Riddick looked confused.

"I thought you told me."

"I did," Jasmine replied, "but now I'd like to _show_ you."

She reached out for his hand, and after a pause, he gave it to her. When she began to bring it toward her chest, however, he hesitated. She sighed.

"I would have done this to show you the massacre, but it's a sacred ritual and we don't permit outsiders to witness it. Close your eyes," she finished softly.

With that, she pressed his hand hard against her mark. A wind roared in both their ears, slamming Riddick's eyes shut and his back into the seat.

-_The sky blazed red, black with the haze of smoke emanating from behind them. Four figures made their way through the forest, faces muffled by cloaks, stopping to help each other if one stumbled._ They need you. _Go._-

_A hollow boom sounded, followed by several loud cries. One of the figures stopped, looking back toward the burning village._

_"Nahuel – you must go back. You are greatly needed."_

_The man looked at his wife and then back to their village, conflict clearly painted across his face. There was the sound of more weapons discharging, the cries escalated to screams._

_"I know you can feel it._

_His eyes were wide and concerned, hers, determined and focused._

_"Alpha!" she spoke with authority, and the formality of the title startled him. She immediately quieted her tone. "My sisters are here," she spoke again. "We will be fine. Go."_

_He finally consented, stretching out one hand to press it against her protruding belly. She placed her hand atop his and smiled. Reluctantly, he pulled away, then took off at a sprint in the direction from which they'd come._

_The three remaining figures pushed further into the forest. Soon, the night blazed with white and blue as a blinding light shot upward into the sky. Simultaneously, Amalia felt a surging clench in her belly._

_As she cried out, her sisters echoed the cry of alarm. She hushed them immediately, running a hand through her ebony hair. They pressed onward, and she spoke to her unborn child._

_"That is the light of Furya, my son. If Zurmàgen wills it, you'll have it too."_

_They traveled as quickly as they could, frequently looking behind them for any pursuers. Their movement was hampered, though, when Amalia was seized by fresh labor pains._

_Agony forced her to the ground, and she grabbed the thick roots of a nearby tree in an effort to quell a scream. She was unsuccessful, and a piercing moan was soon forced from her mouth._

_"No my son," she cried, "Not now. It isn't safe-"_

_The words ended in another moan, and her sisters knew that the baby would hear nothing of restraint. Together Amalia's sisters pulled her to into a thick glen of trees, praying that it would shield them from sight. Amalia pressed her own cloak against her mouth as the pain came again and again in fierce waves._

_One of her sisters knelt to check the baby's progress. She cursed, furiously rubbing her hands with her cloak, trying to make them as clean as possible._

_"Already he comes," she whispered, urging Amalia to push once more. This time Amalia screamed._

_There was a crunch of leaves, and all three women looked up, alarmed. The baby came forth and began to cry, ignorant of the danger._

_The crunch of leaves sounded again, and registered as footsteps, coming toward them at a run. The shelter of the glen was violently parted, and a dingy helmet of silver armor thrust into the clearing._

_Rapidly dropping the crying baby into Amalia's lap, her sister pulled a gleaming dagger from her belt. Plunging it in through the soldier's visor, she made quick work of him, but not before he'd alerted his comrades to their presence._

_Amalia's other sister pulled her own weapon, while Amalia held her child close trying desperately to rise and run. Her pain and exhaustion rendered her inept, and she was reduced to dragging herself with one arm and cradling the baby with the other._

_The sky blazed red, but soon the shadows of a squadron of soldiers blocked it out all together. The women found themselves completely surrounded. A man with gold emblazoned upon his armor stepped forward, leering curiously at the women, particularly the baby._

_"What have we here?" he taunted, stepping forward to look. Before he could draw close however, Amalia's sisters attacked in a whirl of fury. The men gave a cry of surprise at the female warriors, giving the two women enough time to dispatch three soldiers each. The men soon regrouped, though, remembering their training._

_Despite all of the women's skill, they were hopelessly outnumbered. One was seized, pulled backwards and flush against a soldier's front. Her eyes met with Amalia's, and the new mother screamed as she saw the soldier slash the woman's throat. The other fought longer, but soon met the same end._

_Furyan pride stopped the tears in Amalia's eyes. Face pale with pain and grief, she dragged herself into a half-sitting position. The baby screamed, and Amalia placed it within the folds of her cloak. Hand shaking, she drew her own knife._

_"I am not afraid of death. Or you," she spoke through clenched teeth._

_The soldiers only laughed. She was clearly in no condition to fight. Two soldiers came forward. Both were slashed in her frenzy to protect her child, but they soon disarmed her, pinning her arms to the ground easily._

_The commanding soldier stepped forward again, standing over her and leering down._

_"Now," he said, reaching for her cloak, "let's have a look at you."_

_Amalia spat, but then her anger turned to wild fear as she realized he was addressing the baby. Her body surged in an effort to get free, and two more soldiers were required to hold her still. The officer called for a knife, and grasped it in one hand as he lifted the baby with the other._

_"Hmm," he remarked, "a boy."_

_The knife descended and Amalia screamed. The soldier laughed. With a flick of his wrist, the birth cord was cut._

_"Don't worry," he smiled, "I'm not going to kill you. This baby though -"_

_He kept eye contact with Amalia, 'tsking' in the back of his throat as he grasped the cord, wrapped it twice around the little boy's neck and pulled it tight. The baby's face was already turning purple as the soldier turned away._

_Amalia shrieked as though she'd been impaled. The soldiers continued to hold her down as she struggled. After a long moment, shock set in and she lost consciousness.- _

Riddick sat back with a gasp. The corners of Jasmine's mouth turned upward, though she wasn't smiling.

"My brother," she told him softly. "He'd be thirty-two now."

They sat in companionable silence as Jasmine checked the ship's flight path. Reaching down into a compartment in her seat, she pulled out a flask. When she extended it out to Riddick, he raised a lone eyebrow.

"You wouldn't be drinkin' and flyin', now would you?"

"It's been an unusually long day," she sighed as he took the flask and sipped the strong contents.

When he handed it back, she replaced it, looking out through the windshield and into space. She gave him a moment to recover, then asked,

"Did you want to see the rest?"

He blinked, memory still flashing with images of what he'd seen and other strange images of that harrowing night.

"There's more?" he drawled.

Jasmine nodded.

"It's not so sad, though."

Slowly, Riddick leaned forward out of his seat. Without saying a word, he stretched out his hand and placed it over Jasmine's mark. The memory began again:

_- Nahuel raced through the trees, following the trail of upturned leaves, dirt and broken branches that showed him the path his wife and her sisters had taken. His speed increased all the more when the path widened, showing that many others had passed that way: others who were wearing heavy armor and hobnailed boots. Their marks were everywhere, but when he reached the glen, he saw no soldiers. Instead, he heard the sound of a soft stirring in the bush, and then a groan. His heart stopped._

Amalia.

_Desperately, he parted the greenery and gasped at the site of three bodies. Amalia's sisters were long dead, throats clearly slashed, and Amalia lay still. Blood was everywhere. Disregarding the mess, Nahuel fell to his knees, clasping his wife up into his arms. When he clutched her to his chest, he felt the intake of her breath, and could have cried from relief. Quickly he checked her for injuries. She did not appear to be wounded, but the bottom of her garment was soaked…_

_"Orion!" Amalia yelled as she jolted awake. "They took him, and I did nothing. Nothing."-_

_Orion. That was what they'd planned to name their son…Nahuel stared, confused._

_"Amalia, I don't understand…" his voice tapered off and he felt his chest begin to tighten. A tear fell unbidden from his eye as the blood rose to his face. His hand went to his weapon, his legs twitching as though they would instinctively propel him after whatever soldier had taken his son from him._

_When Amalia sagged in his arms and began to weep he knew that it was true. His son was dead. He had abandoned his wife in her time of need and his son was dead. He'd never even gotten to hold him._

_Mutely, he held onto his wife as she cried out her grief. Her body seized intermittently, but he was numb. Then he suddenly heard her cry of sadness shift into a cry of pain. In an instant he was alert, checking her again for the injury he must have missed._

_His hand traveled down her midsection as she seized again, forcing him to pause. His hand traveled slightly lower, and then he felt it: the unmistakable tightening of a contracting womb._

_It couldn't be. It was certainly not possible. Another child?_

_He locked eyes with his wife, then her head fell backwards as the contractions began again. Gently setting her down, Nahuel quickly shifted to check the progress of his wife's labor._

_Lifting her skirt, Nahuel encouraged his wife to continue pushing. In a moment, his grief and distress were caught up in the wonder of what he was witnessing. He gasped in surprise._

_"I can see the head, my love! I can see-"_

_His hand flew up to shield his eyes as he was nearly blinded by an explosion of white and blue lightening that seemed to issue directly out of his wife's womb. The force of the light and a sudden rush of wind blew his hair back from his face, forcing his eyes shut._

_When the strange event was over, he blinked, dazed, looking downward. In his hands he cradled his child, a newborn girl. He held her up in awe, then stopped short. Her entire chest was glowing, covered by a strange mark that looked exactly like a human hand. His head jerked when he heard his wife speak._

_"Nahuel! Your chest-"_

_Abruptly, Nahuel glanced down and saw a matching mark, though smaller, just over his heart. His eyes flew to his wife; she had one too._

_Amalia sat up, as Nahuel stretched out his arms to hand her their child._

_"Twins," she sighed, "and the light of Furya. Who could have known?"_

_When the sounds of battle quieted and Amalia felt well enough, they moved to return to the village. Nahuel carried his wife, and she cradled the baby against her chest, wrapped up in her cloak. He stepped carefully, looking about warily for any new threats. As they walked, Nahuel nearly tripped as his foot hit a tree stump. Looking down, he blinked in surprise. He'd actually stumbled over a hobnailed boot. He looked a little further and saw a helmet, and several other pieces of lost or abandoned armor._

_"My God," Amalia remarked in a hushed voice. Nahuel frowned, looking at the woman in his arms and into the clearing. He nearly dropped her and the baby._

_A huge ship lay docked in the clearing, and the ramp was lowered to accommodate boarding soldiers. No one was boarding, however. No one was moving at all. The ramp, and the ground around and beneath the ship was littered with the bodies of at least a hundred enemy soldiers. They all appeared to be asleep, as if they had simply fallen unconscious in the middle of whatever they'd been doing._

_Nahuel walked down the hill to the ship, making sure not jar his precious cargo. Not a body stirred as the Furyans moved past. They stopped at the foot of the ramp._

_"Maybe the two of you should wait here," Nahuel suggested to his wife._

_Amalia nodded in submission and Nahuel moved to set her down. Then, just as quickly, he stopped, disdaining to leave her amidst so many enemies. He carried them both up the ramp and into the ship._

_Once they were inside, Amalia was placed in the first chair they found. Then drawing his weapon, Nahuel advanced slowly into the bowels of the huge vessel. Every room he checked was the same story – bodies slumped in and over chairs, or simply laying on the ground. He checked the pulses of as many as he could reach._

_Dead. All dead, and all with the same shocked look on their lifeless faces. Nahuel paled, turning to rush back to his wife and child. Before he could speak, though, Amalia smiled, first at him and then down at their miracle baby._

_"I know," she said quietly, cradling the girl even closer. "It was her."_

Long after the final vision, Riddick sat quietly in the co-pilot's chair, occasionally running a hand across his stubbly scalp. Jasmine thought it best to remain quiet, and this silence was quite comfortable. Some time later, she finally spoke.

"You know, no one will ever understand you like we can."

Riddick was unsure of how to answer, so he gave no response. Jasmine didn't press the issue.

"It's gonna be a while before we get there," she told him. "If you get tired, there's another bed in the back. Decent washroom too."

Riddick nodded, unstrapping his belt and getting up from the chair.

"Okay," he said gruffly, "I need to shave, anyway."

And he needed to think.


	18. Meeting the Family

By the time Riddick resurfaced, Jasmine was no longer alone. Though the two were not speaking, Jasmine and Aereon sat side-by-side in the cockpit.

"Jasmine was just trying to convince me to let you two drop me off on the next planet."

"Why?" Riddick rumbled.

"Kenevar found us all right. I'm in such a rush to get back 'cause I don't want to miss his execution," was Jasmine's answer.

Riddick stopped short. Jack had gone to Furya, and she was definitely with her grandfather. Would she share his fate?

"They gonna kill the people with him too?"

Jasmine shrugged.

"If they put up a fight."

Riddick and Aereon shared a look, then, and Riddick scrubbed a hand across his newly-shaven scalp.

_Jack's gonna put up a _hell _of a fight._

"How close are we now?" was his spoken response.

Casting a skeptical glance at Aereon, Jasmine answered,

"Close."

Sighing, Aereon stood, communicating her intentions to retire yet again.

"And I thought we'd gained so much ground," the older woman spoke, soberly.

"Have I been anything but courteous since you stepped aboard this ship? We both have our allegiances."

Aereon was forced to nod in agreement, and she stepped around Riddick into the back room. When she was gone, Riddick moved to sit in the co-pilot's chair. Jasmine held up a hand.

"No, brother. This is your seat."

She stood, vacating the pilot's chair and motioning for him to replace her. He remained motionless, confused by the sudden ceremony.

"I think you've got me confused with someone who knows where we're going."

Jasmine smiled, buckling into the co-pilot seat.

"You're Furyan. You know where we're going."

Riddick shrugged but obliged, figuring he'd be better off going along with whatever the young woman had planned. After strapping himself in, he grabbed the controls and turned to look at her.

"What now?" he rasped.

"Close your eyes and breathe," Jasmine paused, "then hit the accelerator."

Riddick's eyes narrowed and his mouth twisted in disbelief. Then looking into space for any obvious obstacles and seeing none, he shrugged, shut his eyes, and sent the ship forward.

They moved at a crawl, then Riddick felt his chest warm. Risking Jasmine's wrath, he peeked one eye open and glanced down. His mark was shining brightly. The force of the light made him shut his eyes, and as soon as he did he felt as if his heart was being drawn out of his chest. It wasn't painful though; it felt more like a magnetic pull.

He exhaled, shocked. He _did_ know where they were going.

He was startled from his reverie by Jasmine's soft laugh.

"I told you."

Getting to the actual planet was easy. A child could pinpoint the big gray rock that once was the teeming planet of Furya. Yet, where to land was a mystery to an outsider. Thankfully, Riddick was not an outsider. Instinctively knowing to wait for nightfall, Riddick slowly guided their ship toward a landing when the time was right.

He didn't bother to question how he knew to land on the night side of the planet, but it made perfect sense. If you needed to move a lot of people that you didn't want to be found, the safest time to do it was in the dark.

"We move almost every night," Jasmine responded before he even spoke.

"I hope you _all_ don't read minds," he answered sarcastically.

Jasmine laughed,

"No, but bonds grow stronger the closer we get to home. Certain things are just common sense. Even Shirah can't read your thoughts. She gets pictures, uses your emotions like a homing device…but she can't tell what you're actually thinking."

They shared a glance.

"It's enough to be a pain in the ass, though."

Riddick shook his head, and then both Furyans braced themselves to enter to the atmosphere of their planet.

The force of the entry slammed them both back into the seats, and for a moment Jasmine wondered if Aereon was all right. They sky was black as ink, a fuzzy gray where the ship's headlights shone through, but Riddick piloted with the surety of a man who'd never left the planet. As they descended beneath the clouds, the ship was assaulted with a shower of raindrops that blurred the field of vision even further.

"Forgot to tell you we're in the rainy season," Jasmine remarked quietly.

"Great," Riddick muttered.

Eventually, Riddick brought the ship to rest in a shallow plane, broached by a set of cliffs with a narrow passageway in between them. As Riddick began to shut the ship down, Aereon emerged from the backroom, with not a hair out of place. Jasmine sighed and shook her head.

_Still can't bring myself to trust a being that never gets frazzled or angry_…

As Riddick disengaged from the pilot's chair, Jasmine reached below the console to grab her weapons and a light harness. As she strapped the light across her chest, Riddick adjusted his goggles and absently palmed one of his shivs.

"I think there's a cloak back there somewhere – for the rain," Jasmine remarked to Aereon.

The woman shook her head and smiled.

"Even Water Elementals don't melt. I can survive a little rain."

Jasmine took a step closer to the door, watching Riddick fiddle with his shiv until they locked eyes. With the same look, she tried to gauge his readiness and tell him not to be nervous. He raised an eyebrow, defying her suspicions, then stepped forward and hit the door key himself. The door slid open and the three of them stepped out into the storm.

Though he was being pelted with rain, Riddick could see that the quickest way to camp was through the gorge in front of them. He sniffed, thinking back to the last gorge he'd gone through.

_Death row_.

Racing through that valley of bones, he'd been running from a horde of monsters, running for his life. Now he was running _to_ something – several somethings.

_Family, future, destiny_.

The words bounced around in his head, but didn't come to rest. People had been throwing those concepts at him ever since he landed on Helion, but nothing in Riddick's life had ever shown him what any of those words meant.

_Jack_.

Now that, he understood. After five years and one decoy, they had _a lot_ of catching up to do. He fell into line behind Jasmine, easily keeping her hurried pace. He glanced behind him, then fell back to walk with Aereon.

"If they're doin' to Elementals what Jasmine said, maybe you oughta wait on the ship."

Aereon shook her head decidedly.

"I've been in a cell before, Riddick. I can negotiate from anywhere."

Riddick shrugged, falling back into single file as they entered the gorge. He couldn't resist the urge to look up and be more certain of his surroundings. Though the rain was playing with his vision, he saw an unmistakable wink of light.

"Your Furies aren't very good at concealment," he remarked in Jasmine's hearing.

Jasmine didn't slow her pace.

"They're acknowledging us," she answered after a pause. "You saw them because they wanted you to."

Afterwards, they spoke no more, each concerned with their own thoughts. Jasmine was in a hurry to get Riddick home, but she had her apprehensions. Riddick would be given a hero's welcome, but who knew what awaited her?

Briefly, she mopped her brow, uselessly wiping away the ever-pouring rain. She adjusted her light harness to a higher level.

"Not much further now!" she yelled back over her shoulder.

By now, the sentries had sent word back to camp. Everyone would know she was coming – and that she brought a lost Furyan with her…and an Elemental. Jasmine spat into the rain, trying to clear her thoughts. She would have enough to deal with on her own. What happened to Riddick and Aereon would be completely out of her hands. Looking ahead, she saw that they drew near to the end of the valley. Suddenly she stopped, turning to face her companions.

"Whatever happens," Jasmine yelled into the rain, "I –"

She broke off, not sure of how she felt or how to voice it. Riddick nodded, apparently understanding. Aereon just smiled in her knowing way.

Jasmine made eye contact with them both, then turned and walked from the mouth of the gorge.

From the look of the camp, those who dwelled there were clearly nomadic. The structures were large in size, but they were still tents. That's why the large longhouse built on the west encampment looked so strange. Even Jasmine seemed surprised by the permanent structure.

The three didn't get much time to ponder the building, though. They were almost immediately met by their welcoming committee, a group of cloaked Furyan warriors. Though wet, the group still looked quite menacing.

For a moment, both groups paused, sizing each other up. Then, the silence broke into cheerful greetings. Jasmine was pulled away from Riddick and Aereon as her fellow soldiers embraced her.

"I can't believe you ran off like that! You've missed so much –"

"Yoti wouldn't tell us where you went –"

"Mattathias said you found the Necros –"

"that Zhylaw's dead and another Furyan killed him – "

Jasmine was assaulted with questions on all sides, but when the conversation turned to Zhylaw's death, they all grew quiet as if on cue. As one, they all turned to look at Riddick.

"This is the one?"

It was a Fury who spoke first. She had Jasmine's athletic build, but her hair was chestnut brown and closely cropped. Just beneath her collarbone was a tattoo of a sunburst.

Riddick coughed, adjusting his pack.

"I don't know about that 'one' shit, but yeah, I killed him."

As he spoke, a clap of thunder sounded, causing everyone to look heavenward.

"Yoti, how about we take this inside? Get our brother some food and some dry clothes. Then you can ask him whatever you want."

Riddick bristled anew at the word "brother," but then shrugged. He was hungry.

_Just need to take care of some business first_..

The group began to head for the tents, but then attention turned to Aereon.

"Elemental swine," one man hissed, "you're popping up everywhere."

"You're in luck. We happen to have some lovely accommodations for your kind."

"And you'll have company," Yoti sneered, in concert with the other warriors.

Jasmine looked repentant, but now was not the time to defy custom. She stayed back as three of the warriors broke off, surrounded Aereon, and marched her off toward the west camp and the longhouse. Seeing where she was being taken, Riddick moved to follow.

"Riddick," Jasmine spoke under her breath, "What are you doing?"

"I gotta see Jack."

"But people are waiting. Your family –"

"_Jack_ is my family. Those people can wait." With that, he strode off after Aereon and her escorts. Jasmine groaned through gritted teeth, then hefted her pack and walked away.

"Jas! We're this way!" Yoti called after her.

"I can't do this right now. Make my apologies?" Jasmine called back. Her second-in-command shrugged in confusion, palms upward.

"But Shirah –"

"Knows where to find me!" Jasmine yelled as her walk turned into a jog.

Her steps soon brought her to a tent in the rear of camp. On the outside, it looked the same as the others. When Jasmine lifted the flap, however, she was met with colored trails of rising steam, racks of vials, a softly bleeping console and the most welcome sight of all: a man in his mid-fifties wearing thick gloves and a leather jerkin over his clothes.

At the sight of him, Jasmine broke into a smile, the stress melting off of her face in an instant.

"Baba."

Demetrius smiled at the patronly term, stripping off his gloves and apron. Ignoring her soaking wet hair and clothes, he embraced Jasmine tightly.

"It's good to have you back. I've missed you."

Jasmine returned the embrace, smiling into his chest.

"I hope my leaving didn't make too much of a stir."

"Well," Demetrius sighed, "your father was livid. He'll surely have something to say." That made Jasmine smile all the broader.

"I doubt it. He hasn't said a word to me in twenty years, except for when he said I'd been promised to Mattathias. What right does he have to –"

Before she could continue, Demetrius held up his hand. Jasmine's brow furrowed in confusion, but then she saw the back flap of the tent move and Mattathias emerged from the other room. Jasmine was pleasantly surprised. She moved to greet him, but then she saw the steely glare in his eye.

"He's here?" was all Mattathias said.

Jasmine looked to Demetrius, and her apprehension grew when she saw the older man's wary face. Still, she answered,

"Yes. He's with the Elemental now."

Mattathias shook his head, sheathing his chart in a crate full of them. He came to stand near Demetrius.

"Well," he said scrubbing a hand through his hair, "I assume you're here about his blood test. You'll be glad to hear that the genetics aren't in your way, and you'll get no protest from me. I've already told Nahuel that we've agreed to break the betrothal."

He moved to brush past her, but Jasmine grabbed his arm.

"Mattì, what are you talking about?"

Mattathias sighed angrily, drawing his cloak about him. He drew up the tent flap and stepped outside. Over the sound of the rain, he yelled,

"The Alpha's not _your_ brother. He's mine!"

Before Jasmine could make a single protest, he took off at a run.

* * *

"God knows, you're both the most stubborn of your generation."

In response, Jasmine remained in her seat, burying her face in her hands.

"How can he be Mattathias's brother? Mattathias is an only child."

Demetrius moved back behind the console, punching in several codes and pulling up some information. After refreshing his memory, he stated,

"They're actually half-brothers."

Jasmine sat, stunned, although some of the shock was wearing off. The two did favor: same skin, same hair, similar build, although Riddick had more muscle, and the same skilled hands, though Mattathias had never killed.

"Half-brothers how, Baba?"

"It's actually very good news. We know that this Riddick has one living parent. Ava Chrism is mother to them both."

Jasmine nodded. Ava was Hawk, and Riddick and Mattathias both favored her in small ways. Still, Mattathias was the only child she'd had with her present husband. Before that, she was the wife of –

_My God_.

"He's Umar's lost son?" Jasmine asked, her heart pounding.

Demetrius nodded.

"He's a Naveen – Umar's only heir. He's entitled to take leadership of the Wolf clan, if he wants it."

The news was unbelievable, but undeniable as well. Riddick had the same prowess, the same carriage, the same fluidity. Riddick had noble blood in his veins. The thought made Jasmine want to laugh.

"He definitely won't want it."

"Well, that will be his choice. And speaking of lost sons," the chemist asked, "what of the Hawk boy, the one who'd become a Necromonger?"

Only a man well-advanced in years would refer to a grown man as a 'boy.' The thought made Jasmine's mouth twitch slightly, but the mirth quickly left.

"Dead. Riddick saw him take his own life. The guilt I suppose – of what he'd done –"

Demetrius shook his head.

"It's never too late to come home."

Jasmine simply shrugged. These days, that was debatable. Slowly, she stood, opening her pack to hand Demetrius some other samples she'd brought back from the ship.

"I suppose it's time for me to face the music," she stated, her voice dead-pan as she prepared for another trek through the rain. "Shirah's in the Hall of Meeting?" Jasmine asked.

"Yes - another elder arrived just before you. The last one is expected tomorrow night. Then we can all get on with our lives."

_That's an awfully strange way to describe the landmark execution of the man who betrayed our people_, Jasmine thought. Though she had a great deal of respect for Demetrius, she often wondered how a Furyan male managed to be such a pacifist. Jasmine sniffed, pushing the thoughts from her head.

"To the Hall of Meeting I go then," she answered, then bid Demetrius farewell as she left.

* * *

Even those Furies guarding the longhouse had heard that a lost Alpha Furyan had come home. Still, they were surprised when he appeared at their post, instead of joining the assembly. They were even more surprised when he demanded,

"You've got a girl locked up in here – about seventeen. Let her out."

The first of the women to recover from her shock answered,

"With all due respect, brother," acknowledging his Alpha status, "we can release none of the enemy without a direct order. Our orders do not come from you."

"Fine. I'll go in," Riddick answered, holding his anger in check, but palming a shiv he'd stuck in the back of his pants.

The three Furyans who escorted Aereon moved past the guard to open the makeshift prison. Once the escort was through, the five women sentries closed ranks and their leader spoke.

"I'm afraid we can't allow that either."

Riddick sighed, immensely frustrated, and shook his head imperceptibly. As Aereon was led into the prison, Riddick closed his eyes, and tilted his head downward. In a sudden gray flash, he projected himself behind the lead sentry. He had a shiv to her throat in less than a second.

Everyone gasped at the display, their weapons drawn immediately. The word "Necro" was heard among the surprised murmurs.

"Wait."

The group froze at the soothing but regal sound of a female voice. No new person had appeared, but they heard her none the less.

"Do as he asks."

With the pronouncement of the second order, Riddick's thoughts were overtaken by a sudden vision: a bronzed face with a pair of piercing eyes.

"I know you," he breathed. It wasn't a question.

The piercing eyes blinked.

"Yes. I've been waiting for you," the voice lilted.

Slightly dazed, Riddick released his hold on the warrior. Declaring an unspoken truce, the guard moved aside and let him follow the escort into the longhouse.

The inside didn't look like much of a prison. The windowless building did have another set of barred doors guarding the inner cell, but that space was more like a common room.

Outside the bars stood three more Furyan guards, males, and inside, Elementals sat in groups or moved freely about the room. Only one man was in chains. He sat at the far end of the longhouse, his ivory hood loosely covering his long silver hair. Several figures sat near him. Upon entry Aereon went immediately to the elder man.

After greeting him, Aereon turned back and met Riddick's gaze. As Riddick stood outside the bars, Aereon inclined her head, directing his attention to a young woman sitting at the elder Elemental's feet.

Unlike the elder Elementals, her hood was pushed back, revealing light brown hair that draped gracefully down to her shoulders. Slowly, Riddick approached, walking along the outside of the bars until he reached the end of the room.

"You're him. You're the one."

It wasn't until Kenevar spoke that Riddick realized he'd been holding his breath. The older man's words abruptly brought all of the Elementals' attention to the Alpha Furyan, including the young woman seated on the floor. She turned, and her brown eyes met Riddick's silver ones.

She rose, and though she didn't speak, she smiled brilliantly. It was the most welcome sight Riddick had _ever_ seen. She approached the bars. Ignoring those watching, Riddick stretched his hand through the bars, and one of his fingers traced the line of her jaw.

"Jack."

"They call me Gallia around here, but yes, Riddick, it's me."

The two regarded each other for a moment, and a bevy of emotions flashed across Jack's face: excitement, calm, and to Riddick's surprise, confusion.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a low rumble.

"Kyra didn't know I was coming to Furya. She was supposed to take you to Elementium. How did you know to come here? Is she waiting with the ship?"

Riddick stood calmly as he was pelted with the questions, trying to decide the best way to tell Jack that her friend was dead and it was his fault.

When he was finally able to voice the news, Jack sank down to the floor, holding the bars for support. She held back her grief in the face of her kinsmen, but several tears slipped down her cheeks.

"Jack, why did she pretend to be you? Why did you tell her to do that?"

_And _why _didn't I realize it_?, Riddick thought.

Riddick sat back on his haunches, tilting his head to look at the young woman.

"Would you have helped her otherwise?"

Though they still brimmed with tears, Jack's eyes were clear and penetrating.

Riddick bit the inside of his lip.

_Nope_.

"So who was she then?" Riddick finally asked.

"Well, the story she told you was mine, but I did meet her on that ship with the Rykengolls, right after the mercs – well…They did things to us – " Jack caught her breath, quieting her voice to a near whisper. "Needless to say, they didn't live long." She sniffed. "Kyra's a lot like you."

Riddick's eyes narrowed in thought.

"And you aren't."

That brought a small smile to Jack's face, and she shrugged.

"We took the ship, but we messed it up pretty bad 'cause neither of us could fly. Caused a bit of a stir when we landed. Spent a few hours running from Inter-pol."

Though Riddick wasn't much for laughing, he did smirk a little at Jack's story.

"We were on the run for a few months. Then things got really interesting when my powers came. We tried to hide them, but you can't hide that sweet a deal from mercs. Not for long, anyway."

Riddick nodded. Aereon had given him more information on her kind than he could possibly stand. He knew that an Elemental came into their powers the year they turned thirteen, and that a ceremony was conducted to determine whether the child was air, water, fire, earth, or ether, although she'd never explained the last one.

"So which one are you?"

Jack was already speaking softly, but glancing at the sentries not thirty feet away, her voice dropped even further.

"Ether."

Riddick caught the seriousness in Jack's voice and paused.

"Okay – what about that made the mercs want you more?"

"It's not like the other elements, Riddick. Ethers have an active power – we can wear our essence outside our bodies. I could walk through these bars if I wanted."

"Your essence," Riddick frowned, then his brow furrowed in shock. "You mean your _soul_? You can pull your soul out of your body?"

In response, Jack was silent.

"I've already said too much."

Riddick's response was swift. In an instant, he stood, sending his astral self hurtling through the bars behind Jack. When he stood, whole, behind her, he spoke.

"You're not the only one who's got new tricks."

Jack was clearly shocked.

"But how? How did you – the only way is if you went to – "

"You can ask me all the questions you want after we leave."

Still perplexed, Jack only stared at him in confusion, shaking her head. Riddick stepped closer and squatted down where Jack sat, ignoring the obvious stir he'd caused. He leaned forward to speak into Jack's ear.

"I went to _Hell_ for you. Not through it, _to_ it. You owe me Jack. You wanna back up all this talk? In two hours, walk through these bars and come to me. Your grandfather's a dead man and he deserves it. You can't do shit to save him." He stood then, leaving through the bars in the way he'd come. "My ship leaves in two hours," he said so only Jack could hear. "If you're not on it, you'll never see me again." He turned then, and left.

Jack shivered, innately at the sight of his display. She'd been taught well. Only the Necromongers' Lord Marshal could do that. Compulsively, she rubbed her temples, fraught with the decision she had to make.

"Gallia."

At the sound of Kenevar's voice, she was immediately at his side.

"Yes, grandfather?"

After dismissing those attending him, he asked her,

"The Furyan wants you to go with him?"

Jack nodded, mutely. Raising his manacled hands as far as he could, Kenevar reached out for her. She bent down so that he could take her face in his large hands.

"You know how your parents so often question your penchant for emotion? You get it from me." Before Jack could question, he concluded, "go with him, but before you do, I want you to retrieve my journal from Shirah's chambers. Take it with you. There's something in it the Alpha needs to hear."

"Why didn't you ever tell me you kept a journal, Opa?"

Kenevar smiled at Jack's surprise.

"I'm telling you now, Enkelin," he responded with the mirroring word for 'granddaughter.'

"The Furyans won't be able to break the code," he continued, "but you will."

Jack paused for a long moment, then responded, "all right, Opa."

"When does he want you to come?"

"Two hours."

Kenevar smiled, patting the armrest of the room's lone chair.

"Sit with me until then."

It was still raining when Riddick stepped out of the longhouse. Turning to the West, he headed for the ship to wait for Jack.

"Riddick!"

He turned at the sound of Jasmine's voice, and was greeted by her hooded figure. She brushed back the hood to meet his eyes.

"Yeah."

Jasmine stopped to catch her breath.

"Don't go."

"I got what I came for," he said, ignoring her request.

"But your mother – she lives." Jasmine interjected. "Her name is Ava - she's waiting for you."

Riddick turned again, checking the position of the moon and ignoring the rain pelting his face. Two hours. He had time. Taking a deep breath, he shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Fine."


	19. A Mother

**AN: **Just a few more chapters to go - but we're gonna hit a lot more drama before it's over! I wanted to take a second to thank all of you for your reviews, PMS, favorites and alerts! They are such an encouragement! Hope you're all enjoying the ride as much as me!

* * *

A mother. Richard B. Riddick had a mother, and he was about to meet her.

In most cases, Riddick was a pro at projecting nonchalance. It was a skill he'd honed through years of sub-par orphanages, foster homes and life on the streets. Prison hadn't hurt either. Still, despite his efforts, something inside him was shaken to the core.

As he and Jasmine strode toward the tent of Ava Chrism, the rain began to abate, and soon both Furyans could walk with their heads uncovered. Even after removing his hood, Riddick's hands clenched in his cloak, though they held no weapon. Jasmine looked downward briefly, but gave no indication that she'd seen his nervousness.

"You said you found what you were looking for – I assume you meant Jack," Jasmine said as they drew closer to Ava's residence.

"Yep."

"That isn't all you came for," she rebuffed, with no fear whatsoever of his reply. "You'll know that soon."

They had reached the entrance to the tent, but before Riddick could reply, another cloaked figure stepped out. His heart thudded in his chest as the figure brushed back her hood.

Both Riddick and Jasmine released an audible sigh. It was Shirah. Jasmine knew that she was no longer needed, so she took her leave.

"I hope I'll see you again, Riddick," she said in farewell.

Riddick nodded, removing his goggles so Jasmine could look him in the eye. She thought back to the first time she'd seen those eyes. He'd thought her the enemy then, and he'd impaled her through the arm. Those eyes had been fierce and untrusting, even beastly. Now, she saw something new: respect. Her heart warmed at the sight, and Riddick knew it when his own mark began to glow as a result. He gave just the slightest smirk, and Jasmine was suddenly shy. Even though it wasn't raining, she pulled up her hood as she hurried off.

When Jasmine was out of sight, Riddick turned his attention to the other Furyan warrior. Silently, the two regarded each other with eyes seasoned by years of fiercely harsh life. Both had clearly had to mature long before their time. Each advanced toward the other, circling as if they were about engage in battle. Silver eyes met gray.

"Shirah," Riddick stated in his deep, graveled voice.

"Riddick," she answered without fear. "It's taken you far too long." She looked deep into his eyes, like she was trying to see through him. "I see that you have other plans," she remarked, and he could only assume that she knew of his plan to leave with Jack. Still, he felt no need to answer her question.

"Jasmine said my mother's in there." He gestured to the tent, and Shirah nodded. As he came forward to enter, she ventured to lay a hand on his shoulder. Her hand grazed the corded muscle, and she spoke.

"Jasmine is truly remarkable, but even she would agree you've got the wrong sister." She paused when she saw his mouth twitch slightly.

"We must think of the race now," she breathed, "Two Alpha parents have a very high chance of producing an Alpha child."

"Yeah - my 'parents' took _real_ good care of me."

Shirah smiled softly in response.

"There's so much you don't know, young Furyan." She looked toward the now open tent flap. "But you will." She moved out of the way so he could finally enter, and left only after the doorway swished closed behind him.

Jasmine slowly trudged back to Shirah's lodge. She was so tired she could barely move, but she took her position outside the front entrance.

"You abandoned your post, child."

Instantly, Jasmine was alert as Nahuel stepped out of the shadows.

"Yes, father," Jasmine replied, the irony obvious in her voice. "Just following the example you set." Even as the words left her own lips, Jasmine felt shocked. Despite the numerous and grievous wrongs Nahuel had committed against her, Jasmine had never felt the courage or inclination to even look the man in the eye, let alone speak in her own defense.

_What's_ _happened to me?_ she wondered, and the thought made her want to smile.

"What I did - everything I've done was for your own good. What you did was selfish - a true Furyan thinks of the collective before themselves. Fortunately, Shirah has spoken for you."

Nahuel's anger rose with each word, and his face was tinged red when he finished.

As he spoke, Jasmine's eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. It was common knowledge that all Furyans carried their respective families' memories of the massacre and their own birth memories. So, Jasmine knew what a proud, upright and strong man Nahuel had been, and it contrasted grossly with the man he'd become.

"I know you don't like to think of it, but you had her for much longer than I did." Jasmine countered, remembering her lost mother and Nahuel's lost wife. "And it's no one's fault that she died." It was Nahuel's turn to be shocked , but Jasmine took no time to revel in it. Whenever Nahuel chose to speak to her, he was more than frank with his feelings. It was high time she returned the favor. Idly, she opened her fan before finishing softly,

"But it _is_ your fault that I grew up an orphan."

He'd started to walk away, but when Jasmine spoke he paused. It was almost imperceptible, but it was a pause. Jasmine noticed, but she merely shook her head as he left. She had finally gotten over the guilt connected to the memory of her mother. She was done waiting for Nahuel to do the same. She stood, wiping down her weapons, though they were already clean.

Soon, Shirah returned to her dwelling. Turning East, the older woman saw their father leaving. For a moment, the sisters regarded each other, and Shirah looked pensive.

"I've never asked you to choose a side," Jasmine said quickly.

Shirah ignored the statement entirely, communicating that in her eyes, it was a non-issue.

"You're tired, and you haven't eaten. Come inside," she ordered. Without hesitation, Jasmine obeyed the orders, not of the Beacon, but of her elder sister.

* * *

As he lifted the flap of Ava's tent, Riddick was surprised to be greeted by total darkness. His goggles were still raised though, so he had a perfect view of the large room. The furnishing was surprisingly rich: a large, plush rug garnered the floor, and the inside walls of the tents were woven with detailed filigrees. Near the back wall, several panels of cloth were stacked, and Riddick saw thread stretched across a floor loom.

In the middle of the room, a woman sat. She was turned away from him, and her back was erect, almost as if she were meditating. Riddick could not discern her skin tone, but she had thickly curled hair that spiraled out from her head like a halo. He paused, feeling slightly apprehensive, but then he slowly approached her from the side.

"They told me that your eyes were shined. I thought you might prefer to see me this way."

Ava's voice was not a dulcet tone; it bore a soft rasp that was not particularly soothing, but it did a great deal to calm Riddick's nerves. As she spoke, she turned, and he finally saw her face. She had voluminous, almond-shaped eyes that dominated her face. Her mouth was small, but heart shaped, and Riddick was surprised to see that she had his nose. He saw her eyes flit from left-to-right, and she frowned as if she knew he was near, but there was no fear in her expression. He looked closer and saw that her forehead wrinkled when she frowned, just between her eyes, and she had matching crow's feet. Lighter streaks speckled her dark hair, but she was in excellent shape. Nimble fingers rested on the tops of her thighs, and she sat calmly, waiting for him to speak.

Riddick looked around until he found the room's light fixture. He slowly reached for the lamp, turning the lever until a soft light lit the room.

"You should be able to see me too," he responded, shutting his eyes turning and around so his mother could finally see _his_ face.

She said nothing, but her eyes instantly filled with tears. She rose and came forward. After taking several deep breaths, she reached out with her free hand. Riddick stood stock still as she touched his face, but then he flinched when he felt the warmth emanating from her hand and into his skin.

"I hope you don't mind. It looked painful," Ava said.

Riddick shook his head, first in confusion, then in mild surprise, drawing down his goggles so he could look at her. He'd forgotten all about his broken cheekbone.

"You can heal?" he asked.

"Yes. It's a common Hawk gift. And there's something else," she continued, and he saw that she held a wrapped parcel in one of her hands. She opened the thin cloth to reveal a pendant engraved with a wolf's paw print.

"This is yours," she paused to hang it around his neck, "my son."

Excepting his early years, Riddick had never been one to cry, but when he felt the pendant come to rest over his heart, he swallowed hard. Ava, on the other hand, had stopped trying to quell her tears.

Turning her back so as to recover, she moved toward an oaken table with an ornate box resting atop it. Opening the lid, she removed an equally ornate shiv carved from animal tusk. It bore no jewels, but there were intricate carvings on the small handle.

"And this is yours as well. Your…your father made it for you – before he died."

"My father," Riddick said as more of a statement than a question. It sounded as though he was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he was about to learn who his father was.

Reverently, he held out his hand for the blade. When he grasped the hilt, the warmth spread into his body again. He felt a sudden rush of wind suck into his chest, and he took a faltering step backward.

"Don't be afraid, Jo'el – "

Ava took a step forward as if to help him, but stopped herself as the sound of the name left her lips. Riddick looked at her quizzically, sinking down to take a seat on the floor.

"That's my name," he said, again with no question in his voice.

"It's the name your father and I gave you, yes. They told me what you go by – it will be difficult for me to call you that, but it _is_ who you are. Forgive me if I take some time to adjust."

Riddick frowned, looking solemnly at the present his father had never been able to give him. Adjust was an understatement. Briskly rubbing a hand against the bridge of her nose, Ava sat down across from him.

"That rush you just felt – you're newly awakened. You haven't looked into our past yet, have you?"

"Jasmine showed me what happened with her family."

Ava smiled softly.

"Well, she _is_ connected to you. Her father and yours were very dear friends, and some of the fiercest fighters this planet's ever seen. She was supposed to become your sister-in-law..."

Riddick looked interested, thinking back to Mara's recounting of the Furyan doctor who'd saved her life.

"That man who came looking for Jasmine is my brother?"

"He's your half brother. I married again," her face was touched with chagrin. Grabbing her hand and ignoring her gasp of surprise, he held it, palm flat, against his chest.

"Show me how. Show me how to see him."

Ava smiled again, placing her free hand atop his.

"Close your eyes, my son."

And the vision began –

**-**_He coughed as bits of smoke wafted into his infant lungs, turning his face to rest against his mother's chest. _

"_Ava, Jo'el – "_

"_He's fine, my love. It's just the smoke – we'll be out of it soon." Ava laid a hand across the baby's back as she continued to arm herself with a variety of short range weapons. She lifted a broadsword over her head to sheath it in the scabbard on her back. She checked the baby again. He was still strapped securely to her chest._

"_Go straight to the shelters. Do not fight unless you must," the deep voice spoke again to Ava, and the baby boy turned his head to gaze at his father. He stood over six feet tall, dark skin stretched over lean muscle. _

_His dreadlocked hair was bound at his neck, and the free hanging locks swung as he strode across the room, tightening the greaves on his arms. His wolf pendant was tucked into his shirt, but the outline could be seen. _

_As Umar and Ava prepared to fight and flee, respectively, the door of their wooden dwelling was thrown open. Both parents drew their weapons instantly, but relaxed when they saw the man's face._

_Umar smiled, despite the dire situation._

"_Nahuel."_

"_I couldn't leave you, brother," Nahuel stated, returning the smile and grasping Umar's thick forearm._

"_And let me have all the glory for myself? Never!" _

_No one seemed to find the joking inappropriate, even with the sounds of battle outside. The three warriors were focused on the task at hand though. A__s the men stood there, Ava lifted a hidden exit in the floor of their cabin. Beneath it, stairs led to a series of underground passageways._

"_Good. They don't appear to have found this yet," Ava breathed. "Amalia?"_

"_Through the woods. Her sisters too."_

_Ava nodded, stepping over toward her husband._

"_Be safe. Kill as many of them as you possibly can."_

_Ava spoke the last sentence through gritted teeth, hugging Umar tightly around the waist, leaving room for him to embrace her and his only child. He placed a large hand on the baby's head. _

"_Zurmàgen crush our enemies."_

_Umar's companions repeated the prayer, then Ava moved to the trap door and disappeared through it as the two men ran out of the house. Ava lingered for just a moment, turning sideways so little Jo'el could look out the front door. His eyes widened and he cooed when a gleaming azure flash lit the night, accompanied by Umar's unmistakable battle cry. _

_With no further ado, Ava slammed the trap door shut above them. Dropping down into the passageway, she adjusted her night vision gear and began to move quickly and quietly ahead. _

"_We will see him again, little one," she whispered softly to Jo'el, "in this life or after." __Drawing her sword then, she advanced, holding it out before her and her son. _

_Though the tunnels were underground, the sounds of violence could be heard throughout the village. Ava's heart rate increased, and Jo'el instinctively quieted and stilled his movements, lulled by the rhythm. __As Ava approached a bend in the tunnel, she suddenly stopped, and Jo'el felt her heart rate increase, then slow as if she was going into stasis. In a flash, she grabbed a dart from a pouch strapped to her thigh, leaping backwards as a man came crashing down through the ceiling of the passageway and landed on his back. _

_An enemy soldier dressed in full battle gear cried out, surprised to see that one, he was in a tunnel, and two, that fleeing Furyans were in it. He leapt to his feet, yelling that he had discovered more Furyans._

_Ava cursed through gritted teeth, throwing the dart and piercing the soldier's throat through his gear. Gurgling, the soldier clutched at the barbed dart and slumped against the wall. Dropping her large sword in favor of grabbing a handful of darts, Ava retreated at a run, pitching darts behind her as soldiers began to swarm into the hole the other soldier fell through._

_Though she was adept and rarely missed her mark, Ava's weapons were little match for the long-range guns the soldiers carried. Soon, she heard the sounds of shots being fired and the sounds of soldiers running after her. __Then just as suddenly, she heard a familiar yell, and despite herself, she turned. Umar dropped into the passageway, his cloak flying up around him as his blades spun in a never ending arc. Grabbing the gun from a fallen enemy, he hurriedly fired down the passageway, killing the soldiers who had already gotten past him. _

_Soon, the passageway was cleared of assailants, and only the family was left standing in the tunnel. Husband and wife gazed at each other across the distance, and Umar moved to join Ava and their son. _

_As he took the first step over one of the bodies, the hand of a presumably dead soldier flew upward. The hand bore a hunting knife that plunged into the front of Umar's thigh with a sickening thud. As the soldier yanked out the knife, Umar grunted and Ava screamed. From the dark ruby color of the gushing blood, they both knew that the soldier has severed an artery. _

_Umar quickly dispatched the man, but just as quickly, he dropped to his knees. Though he screamed for his wife to continue on to safety, she ignored him entirely, running to his side. Jo'el began to whimper as Ava dropped down, pulling her husband's upper body onto her lap and hurriedly untying Jo'el's sling. Wrapping the cloth around Umar's leg, she pulled it tight._

"_It's too late," Umar whispered as Ava hurriedly placed her hands over his wound. She ignored him again, concentrating and willing the energy to flow from her fingers. Slowly, Umar reached out to touch his son, accidentally smearing a little blood on the baby's chest. _

_Ava bit her lip. The light wasn't coming, and that only meant one thing. In confirmation of her suspicions, she felt Umar's body sag against her, and his hand went limp on Jo'el's little frame. The baby cried, startled at the sudden weight. __Holding in her own tears for her son's sake, Ava quickly gathered the child to her chest. His bloodied sling was useless now, so she opened her vest and tucked him into it. Picking up one of the discarded firearms, she slowly stood to her feet, taking one more look at her husband before beginning her trek down the passageway again. _

_Before she had gone far, however, she returned to the body again. Dropping the gun, she grasped under Umar's arms and pulled his body a good distance away from the corpses of their enemies. Reaching down to trace her husband's pendant, she placed a kiss on his forehead, then gently closed his eyes._

"_We will come back for you," she whispered in promise. _

_As she stood, another body suddenly came down through the hole. It was an enemy soldier, and by the look of his heavily ornamented armor and cape, he was a commanding officer. The front of the helmet shaded his eyes in the dim light, but his wide triangular nose and thin lips were not covered by the armor. __Before she could draw, his gravitron was pointed at her and her son._

"_A boy is it?" the commander asked, his voice hard as steel._

"_Fuck you," was Ava's answer._

_That drew a smile from the commander's lips._

"_I'll take that as a yes," he responded, keeping his gravitron leveled at the mother and child. _"_I'll make you a deal," he continued. "Give me the child, and I'll let you go free."_

_But Ava had had enough of the taunting._

"_Never!" she shouted, raising her gun._

_Unfortunately, the commander was faster than she was, and his blast hit her in the stomach. She fell onto her back, eyes lifeless. Jo'el screamed, partly from the shock, but mostly from the burns the gravitron had left on his tiny legs._

_Grimacing in distaste at the sound of Jo'el's cries, Zhylaw strode over to Ava's body. Taking a hold of Jo'el's forearm, he unceremoniously pulled the baby from his mother's vest. As he walked back toward the hole he came through, he stopped short. Jo'el's cries ceased at a sound remotely like that of mud being sucked up into a fierce wind._

_Turning to look back at Ava, Zhylaw's eyes widened in shock. The graviton, in addition to blasting straight through Ava's body, had blasted through her clothes. Through the gaping hole in her vest, he saw the miracle of first blood vessels, then bone, then muscle, sinew and skin knitting itself back together._

_When the grotesque yet amazing scene was complete, Ava's eyes snapped into focus. Rather than stay to fight her however, this time it was Zhylaw who retreated. Hurrying back to his entrance, Zhylaw leapt straight upward and out of the passageway.-_

As Riddick came back to consciousness, gasping for air, Ava said softly,

"The entire village searched for you for weeks. We buried so many little bodies…but I never found yours. It hurt too much to even entertain the hope that you'd been spared."

Riddick's response to her statement was rather off-putting.

"The blood was red," he breathed, speaking more to himself than to his mother.

"What?" she asked, genuinely confused.

Still lost in his own world, Riddick murmured,

"The blood was red…and Umar was wearing green…and – holy shit."

Before Ava could ask what was wrong, Riddick had leapt to his feet.

"This rug we're on – is it blue?"

"Yes," Ava answered, still confused, then she suddenly understood.

"Oh my God. Jo'el – your eyes!"

Everyone knew that an eyeshine, when done correctly, was a great asset, as it enhanced the rod cells in a human eye and allowed one to see in the dark. A botched shine, however, while the rod cells remained intact, destroyed the eye's cone cells, permanently removing one's ability to perceive any color other than ultraviolet purple. Likewise, the naked eye could no longer stand any degree of light.

Riddick had been the victim of the latter – until this very moment. Somehow, someone – or _something_ had restored Riddick's eyes.

Rushing to Ava, Riddick grasped her tightly by the shoulders, his hands moving upward until he cradled her face in his hands.

"You did this?" he asked, tilting his head.

Ava shook hers, eyes wide.

"Perhaps I could have done it for myself, but only at the time it happened. You altered your body – I don't have the power to heal a wound that old, and certainly not for another."

Abruptly letting her go, Riddick looked toward the lantern, which was still lit. Slowly, as if still in disbelief, he placed a hand on his goggles and raised them to his forehead. Ava looked to see his reaction, but he'd screwed his eyes shut, and it seemed as if he'd keep them that way forever.

"It's okay, baby," Ava came over and stood before him, placing her hands on his broad shoulders. "Open your eyes."

Slowly, Riddick did, and beheld his mother's face in perfect light. Of their own accord, his eyes began to water, although he would never tell a soul whether it was emotion, or simple sensitively to the light.

He looked down at his mother, at her caramel skin, hazel eyes, and dark brown hair lined with streaks of gray.

"Beautiful," he sighed, and they both smiled.


	20. A Fight to the Finish

**AN: Folks, we're nearly there! Get ready for the most dramatic chapter yet! Missymappy - I wasn't able to reply to your review, but thanks! - and you might want to have some tissues nearby for this one. Just wanted to warn you :)**

* * *

Jasmine sighed contentedly, reclining back in her seat. The remnants of a simple meal lay before her, and after a moment, she stood to dispose of them.

"That's all right, Jasmine. Let me," Shirah spoke softly as she took Jasmine's dish.

Jasmine looked a little nonplussed, but she gave no protest as Shirah disposed of the garbage. As the Furyan ruler returned, Jasmine looked up at her expectantly.

"What would you like to know first?" she asked as Shirah sat down again.

"Have you been intimate with Riddick?" Shirah asked abruptly, her face blank as Jasmine suddenly grew bashful, glancing around the richly furnished lodging.

The younger woman was suddenly very interested in the bookcase, and an unfamiliar bound tome had all of her attention. She grabbed it and thumbed through it, frowning at what appeared to be gibberish.

"Where did this come from, Shirah?"

The Beacon was not dissuaded from the original topic.

"We took it from Kenevar's personal effects. Have you been intimate with Riddick?"

Jasmine groaned, covering her face.

"No, I haven't."

"Is that for lack of opportunity, or lack of desire?"

"Shirah!" Jasmine exclaimed midway between embarrassed and indignant. "I might have 'forsaken my duty,' but do you think I have no honor? I knew that I was promised…I would never betray Mattì!"

Shirah nodded, knowingly.

"I had to ask. After all, you _have_ been released from the bond. And the Alpha is not without his…charm."

At that, the women had no choice but to laugh. Soon, Shirah grew sober again.

"I ask because…" Shirah, the Beacon of Furya, was suddenly at a loss for words – a _very_ rare situation. After taking a moment to collect her thoughts, she began again. "You know that I've had to be more careful in my choices than any other Furyan woman. I am certain to pass a great deal of power to my heirs, and the man I choose must be equally strong. There had yet to be one I was drawn to – until I began having visions of a man, a lost one."

"And it was Riddick," Jasmine, replied, clearly in no need of an answer.

"Those visions began a year ago. I've felt him getting closer, although I never thought that we would find him before he found us. It seems that your little excursion was predestined after all."

Jasmine's eyes narrowed, and she frowned.

"My little excursion? You've relegated my breakdown, my search for answers, to a courier's errand? My pain served for nothing more than to deliver you your husband?"

"So he does hold some draw for you."

Jasmine buried her hands in her hair, grinding her teeth in frustration.

"No…I…"

She left off, drawing her knees up to her chest.

"I would never take him from you," Shirah stated emphatically. "If you've begun something with the Alpha, then –"

Jasmine shook her head.

"Do as you like, Shirah." She lay down on her side then, turning her face away. "I'm just going to rest for a moment. Then I'll go to relieve the twins from their night watch."

Shirah sighed but did not speak, picking up a blanket from a nearby table and covering Jasmine with it.

* * *

"Gallia, is it time?"

Jack noted the passage of the hours. She looked up at Kenevar, eyes wide with sorrow.

"Yes, Opa. This is the time Riddick asked me to come."

The young woman bit her lip, silently berating herself for desiring to follow the Furyan when her grandfather was doomed to die.

"There is nothing you can do for me, child. I deserve my fate, and you deserve to be with the man you love – he's a good man."

Jack couldn't help but balk at Kenevar's statement.

"I don't know about any of that Opa. I had a childhood infatuation, and he saved my life and my friend, but there's been so much lost time. I really don't know – "

"I think you do, but now's the time to know for sure. Do not forget to take my journal with you."

Jack nodded, turning to see when the sentries were looking elsewhere. When she was sure it was safe, she knelt before the older Elemental, touching her forehead to his feet. She came up holding his released manacles in her hands.

Before he could object, she smiled, "I might need a weapon."

After one last farewell, she vanished from sight, the chains disappearing with her. The sound of a soft wind breezed through the longhouse, and Kenevar knew that his granddaughter had gone. The other Elementals certainly noticed, and some looked alarmed, but one look from Kenevar silenced them.

Silent and still as the air around her, Jack walked through the wooden wall of the longhouse, holding the manacles tightly. Once she was outside, she stopped to orient herself, noting the location of Shirah's lodge. On her other side, she saw the gorge that she and the Elementals had been led through when they first arrived.

She shuddered, thinking back to her childhood and the gorge where she'd almost died. Both then and now, Riddick was waiting on the other side. She checked the position of the moon, setting off quickly to get the journal. There wasn't much time before Riddick would be leaving.

In a few moments, she stood at the foot of a hill. At the top, two identical women stood guard before Shirah's dwelling. Quietly, Jack climbed the hill until she was close enough to see one of the young women's sunburst tattoo. Wrapping a length of chain around one of her wrists, she held the rest taut in her other hand and quietly advanced forward.

Yali paused, looking down from the crest of the hill in front of Shirah's lodge. She'd felt a disturbance in the air.

"Yoti," she spoke urgently. Without words, Yoti responded, reaching out so Yali could grab her hand.

Yoti, Jasmine's second-in-command, was Yali's twin. The two were alike in face and body, but Yali's longer chestnut hair and her lack of tattoos made her easily distinguishable from Yoti. The two were Beta Furyans, and not unique in that sense, but their gift was remarkable, as it could not manifest unless they were together.

For that reason, the women rarely strayed from each other's side. So when the bulk of night watch had fallen to Yoti in Jasmine's absence, Yali was obviously close by. This time was no different. When Yoti put out her hand, Yali grabbed it. Instantly, a visible but silent wave of air and light pulsed forward to reveal the unseen.

Jack stood shocked as she was suddenly corporeal, and visible to the two women.

"Oh shit."

The Furyan women mirrored the curse and raced forward, with Yoti wielding a cutlass, and Yali, her fan. Keeping their two hands clasped, they could easily see Jack's position. Jack immediately released one end of the chain, swinging the other end forward like a mace.

Without releasing her twin's hand, Yali turned sideways and crouched low, leaving plenty of room for Yoti to parry the chain with her blade. Yoti turned as well. As the chain flew past her torso, Yoti raised the sword and brought her arm down and around, so that the chain was wrapped around the cutlass.

With Jack's weapon occupied, Yali thrust her fan forward in a slicing motion, seeking Jack's ankle and her Achilles' tendon. Jack had no choice but to let go of the manacles, kicking her foot into the air and hitting Yali so hard under the chin that the Furyan's head snapped backwards. The force of the blow caused the woman's body to go lax for several seconds, and she let go of Yoti's hand.

Again, Jack vanished, but the Furies still knew her relative position. Quickly, Yoti flung her sword hand outward, causing Jack's improvised weapon to go flying toward the woods. Once her cutlass was free, Yoti swung it forward, seeking Jack's head in the position she'd seen it last.

Taking advantage of her invisibility for as long she could, Jack dived over the fallen Yali, tumbling as she hit the ground, and rolling into a standing position. Quickly, she ran for Shirah's lodge, ignoring the fact that she had no idea where Shirah might have placed her grandfather's journal.

Yoti reached down to pull Yali to her feet, yelling to warn Shirah and Jasmine. As Yali leapt up, Jack's position was revealed again. This time, Yali sprung into action. Reaching down into her boot, she pulled out a dagger and flung it at Jack's fleeing form. The blow was not fatal, but the knife buried itself in the back of Jack's thigh, ripping a scream of pain from the Elemental and causing her to fall again to the ground.

Inside the lodge, Jasmine was instantly on her feet. She pointed her kitana toward the rear exit.

"Go, Shirah! We'll come for you when it's safe."

Now, Shirah was following orders, and she immediately grabbed a pre-packed satchel containing important relics and documents. After Jasmine checked that it was clear, she sent Shirah out into the woods, where she was immediately flanked by the Furies who stood watch at the rear of her tent.

Once her sister was out of sight, Jasmine raced to the fray. As she ran out of the front of the lodge she nearly collided with Jack, who'd managed to climb to her feet.

"She's one of the Elementals – we don't know how she escaped," Yoti yelled, although Jack's dress, and the fact that she was a stranger made her identity more than clear.

Jasmine quickly assessed the younger woman. Yali's dagger was sticking out of the woman's thigh, but she still had plenty of fight left in her.

"Whatever you have planned will fail," Jasmine hissed, then spoke to her officers, "Go see to Shirah. I can handle this."

"We can't leave," the twins answered, then Yoti spoke, "They found a way to make her invisible."

Jasmine bit her lip, puffing air through her nostrils. This supposed spy was little more than a teenager. The Furyan's mind raced, looking for a solution. For reasons she had no wish to ponder at the moment, Jasmine did _not_ want to kill her.

Ignoring her fellow Furies and their calling for the Elemental's immediate death, Jasmine stepped a little closer to the girl, making a careful show of sheathing her sword.

"Attempting to hurt Shirah is not going to help your leader. Let my officers escort you back to the longhouse and you won't be harmed. We'll even pretend this never happened."

Grimacing strongly, Jack reached behind her and removed Yali's dagger. She did her best to project strength, but a small yelp of pain escaped. She looked down at the knife, frowning at the sight of her own blood. She shook her head,

"I don't want to hurt Shirah. I just want Kenevar's book."

"It is no longer his book," Jasmine spoke definitively, turning back toward Shirah's home, "go back to your cell."

Jack felt her face turning red. That woman was definitely one of Riddick's people. She was treating Jack like a child. The Furyan had actually turned her back!

"Hey!" Jack cried out, indignant at being ignored.

Jasmine didn't even pause. She merely gestured for Yali and Yoti to come forward and retrieve Jack.

Jack looked back at the two Furies as they came closer. _She_ was nowhere near being finished with this conversation. In a compulsive and childish move, she lashed out with the dagger, cutting a shallow slice across the width of Jasmine's back.

That got Jasmine's attention. When she turned around, she was not the same woman Jack had met only seconds ago. Rage flashed hotly in her eyes. She was every bit the Furyan that Jack had heard about in her grandfather's stories.

Now Jasmine's sword was drawn. Jack looked to her own weapon and paled. The dagger was about the length of her middle finger – no match for a sword. She glanced furtively toward the woods. She couldn't even see where the manacles had landed. She couldn't run either – she _had_ to get that book.

"How dare you!" Jasmine screamed, and even her Furies were taken aback by the sudden display of temper. She'd offered the Elemental a chance to walk away unscathed, and the child had repaid her by stabbing her in the back. Well, Jasmine had no intention of committing such a cowardly gesture.

She was going to stab the Elemental in the front.

In a matter of seconds, Jasmine's kitana flashed forward, the thin point cutting through Jack's clothes and piercing her just beneath her right breast. Even in her anger, Jasmine was able to exercise enough restraint to keep from striking a killing blow.

"_Now_ go back to your cell," Jasmine spat, wiping her blade across the ground as if she'd just dipped it in acid rather than Elemental blood. The damn creatures _were_ all witches and spies.

Things got strange, however, when Jack dropped to the ground, the front of her white dress quickly reddening with rhythmically bubbling, crimson blood. Jasmine frowned, looking up at her equally confused officers.

Jack had turned impossibly pale, and she clutched weakly at her wound. A whisper slipped from her mouth.

Jasmine froze. Quickly she sank to her knees, putting her ear to Jack's mouth.

"Riddick," the Elemental breathed.

Jasmine heard the whisper unmistakably that time, and her eyes grew wide.

"Zurmàgen preserve us."

This was Jack. This was Riddick's Jack.

Immediately applying firm pressure to the bleeding wound, Jasmine received another surprise. Though the injury was certainly on the right side of Jack's chest, Jasmine could feel a firm, but quickly weakening heartbeat. Her forehead furrowed.

"Her heart. It's on the wrong side."

"What?" Yali asked, shocked, but Yoti answered,

"Well, we knew they were freaks."

Jasmine looked up fiercely.

"Yali, go find the Alpha. Yoti, get Mattathias – we have to save this girl."

Yali seemed to be the only one who understood they'd been given a direct order. After grasping Yoti's hand, she was able to ascertain the locations of both men.

"The Alpha's with Ava Chrism. Mattì's in the woods."

She took for Ava's tent at a run, leaving Yoti standing there. She seemed unable to believe what was transpiring.

"Jasmine, she's our enemy!"

"But if we lose her, we will lose the Alpha," Jasmine responded matter-of-factly.

"Then we lose him!"

The heartbeats quelled beneath Jasmine's fingers. She cursed, shoving two blood covered fingers against the hollow of Jack's throat. There was no pulse. Immediately Jasmine began chest compressions, cursing again as more blood began to seep out of the wound. Her breath came in pants, and she spoke without looking at her fellow Fury.

"You want my place, Yoti? You wanna challenge me? Fine, but you'll do it after you get Mattathias!"

Yoti licked her lips, frowning in consternation. She certainly hadn't meant to cause a rift with her friend and leader. Throwing her hands up briefly, she left to fetch Furya's youngest physician. She sprinted off into the woods, branches and leaves crackling loudly beneath her feet. She did not have far to go. When Yali had grabbed her hand, Yoti had seen an image of Mattathias sitting, slumped atop a large rock in the middle of the forest.

The rock soon came into sight, and Yoti increased her speed. In a few more seconds, she reached the place. The summit of the boulder was just above her head, so she stepped back in order to see the top. There Mattathias sat, feet planted on the face of the rock. Idly, he rested arms and his torso against his bent legs. He glanced downward when Yoti approached

"What does she want?" he mumbled against his knees.

Yoti sighed, hating her messenger's role.

"Jasmine stabbed an Elemental and now she wants to take it back."

Despite his deep frustration over his and Jasmine's latest encounter, Mattathias quickly leapt to the ground. As the two ran back toward the clinical tent, Mattathias shifted into medical mode.

"How bad is it?" he asked Yoti.

"The wound was to the heart. She seemed dead."

_She_ really _doesn't do anything halfway_.

This would be the second time Jasmine had caused him to heal against his ethics. Still, despite himself, he couldn't let her down – at least not on purpose.

Yoti began to run faster. He did the same.

Jasmine looked up, beyond distraught, when Mattathias and Yoti arrived. Her frantic breaths were visible in the humid air. Blood was everywhere, pooling on the already soaked earth and coating Jasmine's hands. Patches of the Elemental's dress looked red instead of white. Mattathias took a look at the injured girl. He could already tell she had stopped breathing.

Jasmine caught his eye, her expression beyond both fear and apology. She was still doing chest compressions, despite Jack's unresponsiveness.

"Mattì, we have to save her. She has information we desperately need."

The words came tumbling out in a stream. Jasmine felt some chagrin for telling a half-truth, but she was not about to tell Mattì that she was doing this for Riddick.

As Mattathias knelt and opened his medical bag, Jasmine continued, "I stabbed her. It shouldn't have been fatal, but her heart's on the right side instead of the left. I didn't know."

"Situs inversus."

Jasmine almost cried when she heard Demetrius's soothing voice. The chemist/physician had come back with them. She stood back to let them work.

"It means her organ placements are reversed. And I'm not cutting her open if her heart's done for anyway," Mattathias finished, his tone clipped and curt. He held out his hand toward Demetrius. The older Furyan handed him the portable defibrillator Mattathias had run back to get, being careful not to let it touch the wet ground.

Mattathias ripped the protective covers off of the pads and cut down the front of Jack's dress. As Jasmine and Yoti stood clear, Demetrius held the console and flipped the switch. Jack's torso surged upward and then slammed back into the ground. Mattathias pressed into Jack's neck, feeling for a pulse. Feeling no response, he settled back, as Demetrius turned up the wattage and engaged the machine a second time.

Jasmine had wandered a little ways from the group, so she was the first to see Riddick charging up the hill. Yali and Ava were some distance behind him, and they were followed by a crowd of curious Furyans. Jasmine started when she felt a hand on her back. Looking behind her, she saw that Shirah and her guards had returned from the woods, sensing the disturbance in the community.

The Beacon observed the furiously working doctors, and calmly glanced down the hill toward the large incoming crowd. In seconds, Riddick had crested the hill. Breath like smoke streamed from his nose and mouth, and his forehead was a map of furrowed lines.

He met Shirah's eyes briefly, then moved to Jack's side as if a magnet drew him. Mattathias, focused intensely on his task, did not notice the Alpha drawing closer. He had received the clearance from Demetrius, and was removing the pads from Jack's chest, abandoning their useless efforts to save her.

Soon Riddick stood above them, looking down on Jack's lifeless form. Roughly, he shoved Mattathias out of his way, and the younger Furyan quickly jumped to his feet, anger in his eyes.

Riddick ignored him. He knelt over Jack, hands hovering just above her body, like touching her would make this situation all too real. It was surreal enough that he was seeing her in color for the first time. Without life, her skin was unbelievable pale, like a pitcher of cream. Her hair was light brown, the color of uncut ginger. And the blood – he'd forgotten how red blood actually was. Her lifeless eyes were still open, staring vacantly into the distance. They were brown, like the earth on which she lay.

His heart was beating so quickly and so strongly that he could see a vein pulsing beneath the thin skin of his wrist. He stared, taking it all in, and then one large hand finally came to rest on Jack's forehead, smoothing her hair.

"Who did this?" He asked after a silent moment, the rumble in his voice so deep he was barely audible.

Everyone who stood on the hill was utterly quiet, so Jasmine easily heard the question. Swallowing thickly, she stepped forward into the large circle of people.

"I did."

In a flash of speed, Riddick surged forward to take revenge, but just as quickly Mattathias and five Furies jumped into his path, Yali and Yoti among them.

"So you're him," Mattathias growled, a shiv appearing from within his pack. Jasmine's eyes widened in utmost shock. She'd had no clue that the man had ever carried a weapon other than a surgical tool. Despite the inappropriateness of the moment, but her heart warmed in her chest.

"No, Mattì! That goes for the rest of you as well."

Neither Mattathias nor the Furies paid Jasmine any mind. None of them moved from their battle positions. Riddick rolled his shoulders, idly, and cracked the bones of his neck. He appeared to be at rest, but it was like the calm before a storm. In reality, he was more than prepared to go on a killing spree. Smoothly, Shirah stepped forward to mediate the conflict.

"Stop it."

Shirah looked around curiously. Someone had beaten her to the punch. A quick scan of the crowd revealed that the admonition had come from Ava. Despite the situation, both men turned at the sound of their mother's voice. Quickly, she came forward to stand between them.

"Riddick, that's your brother," Ava said quickly, hoping to stay his hand, "You would use your father's knife to shed your brother's blood?"

Various gasps and whispers of excitement emanated from the crowd. Everyone had known that a lost Alpha had come home, but the news of his genesis had yet to be announced. Those Furyans who had lived through the massacre now knew from whence Riddick came, and the name "Naveen," was heard more than once.

Ava's words did seem to slow Riddick down momentarily. He looked down at his weapon. He'd simply grabbed his closest shiv, the first one he'd touched. After further investigation, he realized it was the ivory shiv that his father had carved for him when Riddick was just an infant. He sniffed. Revenging Jack seemed like a damn good reason for breaking in the new knife. Still, he paused, finally taking a good look at Mattathias. He was hardly Riddick's twin, but there were enough like features to prove that the kid was definitely his blood.

He felt the strangest twinge in his gut, and he found himself pocketing the blade – for the moment, at least. He looked past his half-brother to lock eyes with Jasmine.

"Later," he rasped darkly, and Jasmine nodded.

Leaving Mattathias, the Furies and everyone else to stand there and gape at him, he came back to Jack's body. Gingerly, he knelt, scooped her up and tucked her against him. One hand came up to gently cradle the back of her skull, trying to wipe off some the mud covering the back of her gown.

Slightly he rocked, as if he were trying to lull her to sleep. He spoke quietly into her deaf ears.

"C'mon, Jackie. You can't keep dyin' on me."

It was an experience he couldn't help but relive. Holding Kyra's dead body after she'd given her life for him. Thinking she was Jack, and losing her for the second time at the gates of the Underverse. Now, he had lost her for yet a third time, and this was for keeps.

"Jack, please. C'mon kid – I won't let you do this. You were supposed to be safe…"

His chest tightened painfully, his breath coming in rasping, audible heaves. The urge to throw back his head and howl was nearly irresistible.

The situation was strange enough with the crowd standing by, especially when people began to realize that Riddick held a dead Elemental in his arms. Still, everywhere drew back respectfully, knowing better than to interrupt a Furyan in his grief.

Jasmine ran a hand through her hair, but stopped the action midway, drawing back her hand to see that she'd unwittingly smeared herself with blood. Some tears made their way down her face, fueled by sheer emotional, physical, and mental exhaustion. She stooped, using the grass to wipe her hands and cleanly as she could.

When she returned to her feet, Mattathias was standing nearby. She faced him fully, and more tears made their way down her face when she looked into his eyes. She tried to speak several times, but stopped when she realized how close she was to outright sobs. Mattathias seemed to sense it, and he slowly raised a hand to cradle the side of her face.

"Jasmine, who is she?"

Mattathias drew back as if he'd been caught behaving untowardly when Shirah appeared beside them. Jasmine immediately collected herself and shifted to business mode.

"She has history with the Alpha – they saved each other lives. It was long before he knew what she really was – or who _he_ was," Jasmine whispered back. She purposely held back the information on Jack's genealogy. It hardly mattered now.

Mattathias had begun to walk away while Jasmine conversed with her sister. By the time she was finished, he was too far for her to call him back without using some volume, and it simply wasn't appropriate. She didn't feel released to go after him either. She sighed, looking around at her Furies and her kinsman.

Riddick held more tightly to Jack's body, because he knew he'd have to let her go soon. He had to move on. There was nothing left for him now. Suddenly the numbing, empty, Necromonger lifestyle made a lot more sense.

"Dammit, Jack. _Do not_ do this to me. You don't have the fucking right!"

Everyone jumped at the sudden volume in his voice. Still, he couldn't stop his anger. The bile rose in his throat, and his chest felt unbelievably warm. His heart was racing – then he suddenly felt it slowing.

It actually felt like the earth itself was slowing down.

As he knelt, holding Jack in his arms, he felt his mark begin to glow. He heard a thrumming, or felt it rather, as if all the water in his body was moving in concert.

Shirah's mark began to glow, conducting Riddick's energy. The beacon glanced down at her chest, and she immediately looked to Jasmine.

Jasmine thought back to the day she'd fought the Necromongers for her life and her honor – the day her gift had shown a new face. As her own mark began to shine, she held Shirah's gaze. Something big was about to happen.

Everyone else soon knew as well. One by one, the mark of every Furyan present began to shine. Riddick's mark was now glowing so brightly, that even though his entire body was still covered by his traveling cloak, the blue light reflected upward, illuminating his face.

From his rock in the woods, Mattathias felt it too. His mark burned blue flame, and he saw the matching pinpoints in the distance. What could it be now?

He scrambled down from the rock and ran toward the lights.

Riddick felt his body growing warm, the heat drawing inward to his chest and stomach. His breath increased to double time, like he couldn't get enough oxygen, but strangely, he felt no fear. His forehead creased as the inside of his body began to clench, like his very organs were being squeezed.

Automatically, his hold around Jack increased, matching the grip some force had on his insides. His mind flashed back to Crematoria, when Shirah had touched him and awakened his soul for the first time. His entire body had given off a light as strong as the Crematorian sunrise. Was that what was happening to him now?

Before he could ponder the question, though, the energy surged inside him, pushing his torso backwards with enough force to crack his spine. A groan was wrenched from his lips. From his mark, light beams shot forth like cerulean comets, illuminating the woods for miles.

The force of the rays caused all present – except for Shirah – to avert their eyes.

"The light of Furya," she whispered.

Eventually, all were able to return their eyes to the scene, and Riddick came back to consciousness. His arms had remained around Jack's body, and with the change of his position, she was practically lying on top of him. As he struggled to rise, his hand slid up to cradle Jack's neck.

He stopped cold. He'd felt a pulse. In a rush, he sat up again, releasing Jack so that he could look at her face and know for sure. Her brown eyes were still open, but now she was blinking up at him.

"Hey," she said quietly. "Where did I just go?"

"Doesn't matter," Riddick said, his jaw tight with emotion.

His hands still held her loosely, but they clenched intermittently, as if he wanted to hug her, but couldn't. She was smiling serenely now, but she was confused to find him without his goggles. She asked why he wasn't wearing them.

"That doesn't matter either."

Jasmine came forward to stand beside Shirah. Everyone present was equally baffled, even the Beacon. Every Furyan, even the children, knew how an Alpha Furyan's power worked. They could call forth the light of Furya to destroy the enemy in times of great need – but to _heal_ - and to heal a non-Furyan? That had _never_ happened, and in reality, was not possible.

Until now.

Ava Chrism folded her arms, smiling softly. Eventually Mattathias found his way into the circle and stood by her side. She pulled him to her, hugging around his waist and beaming with pride.

"_My_ sons."


	21. The Truth Comes Out

Shirah stepped forward, reigning in the situation before the commotion could become too great.

"Everyone please go to your homes. We'll resolve all of this once the council is assembled."

Reluctantly, the crowd followed the beacon's orders.

"Bring her into my lodge," Shirah said quietly to Riddick as the crowd dispersed, carefully framing the command as a benevolent suggestion.

Riddick scooped Jack up from the ground and carried her inside, despite her protests that she could walk on her own. Jasmine looked through the crowd until she spotted her sister. She had gone quiet and still, while the other Furyans milled around excitedly, or returned to their homes. Jasmine knew that look. When Shirah stirred and opened her eyes, Jasmine asked,

"You call to the elders?" Shirah nodded.

"We're still missing one, but we must hear this without him. We can't afford to wait. The others should be arriving soon." She looked toward her own lodge, biting her lip. "It galls my blood to be so kind, but she is important to Riddick. We cannot lose him, and we must know what this is about."

Jasmine shrugged, huffing a sigh through her nostrils.

"Well, I'll retire then. It's been a very long night for all of us. Call if you need me."

Shirah looked surprised.

"I thought you of all people would want to see this through. _You've_ known Riddick since the start of the story. You should be there at the end as well." Despite Jasmine's offended and disgruntled expression, Shirah continued, "besides, you're the only Furyan he knows. I think he'll be more comfortable with you there."

Shirah turned and went into her tent as if the matter was concluded, but Jasmine remained outside, scanning the crowd. Among the last remaining onlookers, she saw Ava, but when she caught the woman's eye, Ava shrugged. In the commotion, Mattathias had apparently slipped away yet again. Jasmine sighed deeply, tooling with the fan hanging at her waist. Then she turned and went into the tent.

"That's some detour you took."

As Jasmine entered the lodge, she heard Riddick's deep voice scolding Jack. Before Jack or Jasmine could explain, Shirah interjected,

"Yes. What here was worth your life? Did you come for me?" The Furyan leader gave a soft laugh. "You can have another chance if you like, but I must warn you – the warrior who killed you but a moment ago is my sister, and I am just as deadly."

"She came for Kenevar's book," Jasmine responded before Jack could again do some ridiculously brash thing that would get her killed yet again.

"He's my grandfather. It's mine by rights. He wanted me to have it," the younger woman said angrily. The Elemental's face was flushed with the excitement of the moment and a little bit of youthful temper. She sat up from the couch, looking pointedly at Riddick.

Riddick blinked, leaning forward slightly.

"You might as well give it up, kid. You're not getting the book unless you tell her what's in it," he said, referring to Shirah.

Just then, the flaps of the tent parted as three Furyans came into the room. Shirah went to greet them. After a glance, Jasmine saw that they were members of the council of elders. She returned their nods of acknowledgment.

"You might need to let this go, Jack," Riddick said softly so only she could hear. "I don't think they'll just let you walk out of here with it – and I'm not too keen on fighting these people."

He frowned after that statement, thinking back to how the beast in him had calmed just at the sound of his mother's voice. He suddenly was more than ready to leave. This place was starting to have too much pull. Their conversation ended when Shirah cleared her throat. When Jack and Riddick looked up, she was holding Kenevar's leather bound journal. The elders took their seats, spreading out to loosely surround Jack's chair.

Jasmine sat as well, casting a furtive glance at her sister as Shirah unceremoniously tossed the book into Jack's lap. Riddick was hunkered down nearby, and he glanced at the book as Jack opened the cover.

"The only part of that book that interests us," Shirah stated as she slowly paced before Jack, "is the first entry. The rest of that journal is nothing but mundane quibbling about the day-to-day of your useless lives. The first entry though, is rather puzzling."

She paused as Jack looked at the first pages.

"It's not in your language." Shirah concluded, "It doesn't appear to be any language at all."

She came closer, dipping downward until she was face-to-face with the Elemental.

"You say you are his granddaughter. Decode that for us and we'll let Kenevar's worthless legacy live on in you. We'll even let you leave." Keeping her position, she turned her head to look Riddick in the eye. "If you refuse," she said to Jack while holding Riddick's gaze, "well…I'll be curious to see if our Alpha can work _two_ miracles in one night."

She and Riddick regarded each other for a moment more. Jasmine frowned from her seat, then rose and took several steps toward the entrance. She didn't know what Shirah was playing at, but she was more than sure that they'd be fine without her presence. When she was certain that all of the attention was elsewhere, she slipped out into the night. She headed purposely for the woods. Let Shirah take care of Riddick – she had her own matter to settle.

Back in the tent, Jack sighed as she looked at the first entry in her grandfather's journal. Kenevar had been correct. She _could_ read this code. It was a special game they'd played since she was a little girl. Even though she was long past childhood, he often still left notes for her that only she could read.

She bit her lip, drumming her fingertips upon the first page. She glanced at Riddick again. The look in his eyes was more than clear.

_Read the damn book, Jackie._

Jack sighed and nodded. Squinting briefly as she deciphered the first characters, she began to read.

_** I, Kenevar Anselm, have broken our greatest law. I have tipped the balance. I have tipped the balance – yet the only remorse I feel is that I did not do more._

_I was acting as an ambassador to the planet Furya. We had been hearing rumors of a great shift in the balance of power – a force so great that none could withstand it. As far as we were able to discern, the next greatest power, and the only one at our disposal, was that of Furya. Hence, I and the emissaries were sent forth to scout Furya's potential, to see if this people was indeed so great._

_Our talks had barely begun when this army found us. We received no warning. Even our greatest mystics did not sense their coming. This force descended upon the planet like a firestorm, leaving time for none to prepare or react. Their soldiers were seasoned warriors who cut down all before them like wheat._

_The Furyans are a powerful people, but with no time to prepare even they fell before this army. Amidst the chaos it was all I could do to gather my traveling companions and evacuate. We had brought one large ship and several small skiffs. There was more than enough room for those I'd brought, and more so, as with the ensuing battle some of us were separated from the group. I can only presume them to be dead._

_What I confess now is to my everlasting shame. There is no deed great enough to erase what I have done. Our law reveres balance and The Great Scales require it. The greatest crime is to purposefully shift that balance, regardless of who it may favor. Yet, if I were a man of strength, I would have broken that law and never looked back. _

_As we fled, a Furyan elder found me and requested that I help some Furyans to escape. They were the helpless ones, invalids and children, only those who could not stand and fight. I denied the elder's request and left his people to die. _

_We left that planet in a large ship that could have held at least 70 more. Not a one of my companions blinked an eye. Even I was unmoved until we were too far away to be of any help._

_As we flew toward home, there was a flash of light so bright that it lit the inside of our ship. All eyes turned back toward Furya, which was growing smaller and smaller in the distance, but we turned in time to see the light fading. I found myself unable to turn away. _

_I cannot say what drove my next actions – guilt, shame, the first flicker of courage – there is no way to know, but I found myself taking a skiff, despite the protest of every member of my entourage. I ordered them to continue toward Elementium, and I headed back to Furya._

_When I landed, it was as if I were on another planet entirely. I was greeted by nothing but scorched and flattened earth, charred buildings, and bodies as far as I could see. I walked until I was tired, looking and listening for any signs of life. I found only one. _

_There was a mound, a pile of bodies carelessly thrown to the side. They were infants. I thought them all to be dead – until I saw the light. It was dim, but similar to the character of the light we'd seen from inside our ship. Upon investigation, I found one living male. Other little bodies lay on top of his, but the light guided me to him. His legs were charred, burnt nearly black, but he had a heartbeat, and it was strong._

_He stirred when I touched him and gave a feeble cry. In that instant, I disregarded all the education, all the training I ever received. I would not allow The Great Scales to decide the fate of this baby. I wrapped him up in my cloak. I had returned too late and I saw no living Furyans who could take the boy, so I brought him into the skiff. _

_The child was so quiet, and as we flew away from Furya, the light on his chest grew dimmer and dimmer. At first, I feared that the boy was dying, but repeated checks assured me that his heart continued to beat. _

_I cannot say how long I flew, only that I knew this baby's best chance was to get as far away from his home planet as I could take him. We eventually landed on the night side of a planet in the Bascurro sector. _

_I was already a coward, so it was easy to add 'liar' to the list. I told the port authorities I was an Elemental priest stopping to visit a fellow cleric. With the infant being so quiet, he was no trouble to hide. Inter-pol was able to direct me to a friary, and I took the child there. I told the clergymen that I'd found the child in a garbage bin near a liquor establishment. The friars assumed he was an abused, abandoned baby. I did not bother to correct them._

_I stayed in the friary that night, and left the next morning after getting an update from the medical personnel who'd taken the baby. His wounds are critical, but he appears to have a very strong will to live._

_I have tipped the balance in his favor in more than one way. If luck serves him, he will survive. If he survives, he will never know who or what he is. He could not be safer. _

_Perhaps The Great Scales have not been compromised. One life for hundreds upon hundreds of deaths? And after what I have seen, it does not take a mystic to sense that more death is to come. Perhaps the universe itself will bear the consequences of our neutrality._

_I can tell no one what I have done. Only this journal bears witness to my deed.**_

There was utter silence as Jack read the last words and shut the journal. It was safe to say that _everyone_ in the room was absolutely stunned.

Jasmine looked back briefly as she left Shirah's lodge, then shook her head to clear her thoughts. The warrior in her was intensely curious as to what they'd find in Kenevar's journal. Still, the past few hours had imparted a great deal of perspective.

_There's more to this life than being a warrior. A _hell _of a lot more_.

The Fury took a couple of steps backward before turning around completely and heading into the woods. Hopefully, she hadn't fucked up her chance to have a real life.

As the large boulder loomed up before her, Jasmine couldn't help but smile.

_Predictable Mattì. _

His slouched figure was clearly visible in the full moonlight.

She spoke when she was close enough.

"And _you _accuse _me _of running from my problems. At least I picked a place that was hard to find." She grinned at the thought, but Mattathias merely scowled.

"You were so busy with the Alpha earlier. I'm surprised you didn't send one of your messengers again," he grumbled.

Jasmine's smile fell a little when she saw how angry he still was.

"No," she spoke softly to calm him. "I needed to deliver this message personally."

Mattathias tilted his head. Something in her voice told him that this was important. He climbed down the rock face and she came closer until they were looking each other in the eye.

As they came into proximity, their marks emitted a soft light. Looking down at her own chest, Jasmine felt her heart rate increase, although this time it had nothing to do with an impending battle. When she looked up at him again, Mattathias was clearly confused. Jasmine laughed.

"Chrism men, Naveen men – you're both a little slow on the uptake." That did nothing to explain why she'd come, so Jasmine went for action instead. Grabbing his face with both of her hands, she kissed him until they were both out of breath. "Let me spell it out for you," she said between gulps of air, still cradling his face and resting her forehead against his. "I, Jasmine Kyder, warrior of the Lion clan and leader of the Furies have done a great thing and have earned the right to choose for myself. I choose you."

Mattathias did not speak for some time. Instead he reached up, wrapping his large hands around her wrists. For the next few moments, the two concentrated on breathing. Eventually though, Jasmine stepped back, waiting for his answer. He still held her arms, and now his thumbs casually rubbed the back of her wrists.

"Mattì," she finally said, "I know that I've made you wait, but Jehovah didn't grant me the same patience. Please – "

"You know," he said, interrupted her. "If you're really deciding to marry me, then the past four months have been for nothing - unless this was just foreplay..."

In a matter of seconds they were both laughing uncontrollably. As he smiled at her, it was like the weight of the world fell from Jasmine's shoulders. The release felt so good that a few tears slipped from her eyes. Then the mirth gave way completely to tears and Jasmine couldn't tell if she was laughing or crying.

Mattathias wrapped his arms around her without question. It had been several long months for them both. He asked for no explanation, simply providing the comfort he knew she needed.

"None of it matters, Beloved," he said quietly into her ear, "I know exactly what I'm getting into. I've just been waiting for you to figure out what you wanted."

"God, Mattì," Jasmine sniffed once she was able to recover herself. "Keep acting like that and you'll be _way_ too good for me."

Silence seemed like the best course, so Mattathias simply extended his hand. When Jasmine took it, they began walking back to camp.

* * *

As Furyan guards waited outside of Shirah's tent, Riddick fumed,

"You said you'd let her go if she read the book. She read the fucking book."

Shirah shrugged,

"I tried to. Weren't you listening? She _wants_ to go back the holding cell."

The Beacon gave an exasperated sigh as she fisted a hand in her long hair. She certainly regretted having heard the entry from the journal. Things had suddenly grown _very _complicated. If she had to find a bright side, though, at least Riddick was going to stay. His actions made it more than clear that he would not leave without the girl.

But what to do about Kenevar - or rather, what could be done that would be in everyone's best interests? Her visions had never betrayed her, and from the first one, she had felt an immeasurable pull to Riddick. When he'd first appeared in her visions, she had thought he was her lost brother, Orion and that he had somehow miraculously survived. Why else could she feel so connected to him? When the DNA tests had shown otherwise, though, there was but one explanation left.

She stepped outside the lodge to watch the guards lead Jack away. Riddick came outside as well, pacing a small swath of ground. Shirah glanced at him casually. He was like a caged beast- a caged wolf.

"You're supposed to be mine," she said defiantly, ignoring the perplexity and anger that crossed Riddick's face. "I know you felt it when I came to you on Crematoria. I saved your life," Shirah hissed.

Riddick scratched the back of his neck, appearing to ponder his answer.

"You didn't save me. Whatever it _was_ you did to me, I was so wiped out that I would have laid out on that rock and fried if the Purifier hadn't dragged me into the hangar."

"That seems preferable to death by Necromonger," she spat in return, stalking a short distance away from him, "and I _did_ know who the 'Purifier' was."

The two Alpha Furyans stared each other down for a long moment, then Shirah finally broke the silence.

"Had I not felt what I did, I would have no problem letting you leave – Alpha or no. We don't want someone who doesn't want us, but you have shown that you are capable of thinking of someone other than yourself. Try to think of your people – of our future."

She came a little closer, brushing against his arm.

"Our child could be the most powerful Furya has ever seen. I know you have history with the girl, but think of us. Think of your mother –"

"Don't you dare!" Riddick nearly yelled. "You're a hell of a person to put in charge. You're as selfish as I am."

"Then you do understand," the Beacon smiled, "we're a perfect match."

By the time the sun had risen, the last of the council of elders had arrived on the planet. The now complete council sat in Shirah's lodge. Kwoth, the head of the council had been briefed on the contents of Kenevar's journal, and he was equally shocked by the news.

They all sat, meditating upon their own thoughts before they launched into discussion. When they were ready, Shirah stood, drawing herself up to her full height.

"My fellow elders, there are only two choices here."

Though she obviously could not see through the walls of her tent, she looked West toward the holding cell where Jack and Kenevar sat. Then she looked North, toward Ava Chrism's tent, where Riddick had spent the night. Clearing her throat, she said,

"Do we allow a man his life for saving one life, or do we kill a man for enabling a thousand deaths?"


	22. Loose Ends

**AN: Can you believe it? We're already at the end. Hope you like it!**

* * *

The night had passed, but few had slept. At the Chrism tent, Riddick had been besieged by members of his clan and his family. They were all very eager to meet the "resurrected" Wolf heir. Likewise, Jasmine and Mattathias had spent the night awake, talking and simply enjoying each other's company.

In the holding cell, Jack sat again at Kenevar's feet, ignoring his chastisements at her return. His journal was concealed in her clothes, and her hands strayed to the leather cover continuously.

The Furyan council of elders had also remained awake. They had spent the night in a near deadlock, well-divided on whether Kenevar would live or die. Kwoth's arrival, although the man was the oldest member of the council and considered the wisest, had done little to ease the stalemate.

For much of the debate, Shirah had been strangely quiet. Kwoth noticed, and finally prodded her to speak.

"What have you seen, child?" he asked, referring to the Beacon's visions.

Shirah gave a deep sigh.

"I made you all aware when I began receiving visions of a lost Alpha Furyan."

Eyebrows raised around the room.

"This Riddick is the man you saw? Why did you not tell us earlier?"

Chae, the only female besides Shirah, had spoken.

"I thought it might place unnecessary bias upon the discussion. I do not want to go against the consensus…but yes, Riddick was the Alpha I saw. If my visions are correct, then he will play an indispensable role in the destiny of our people. I saw him seizing power over our enemies and leadership of his clan. The first part of my vision has already come true."

The Beacon paused, considering her next words carefully.

"If we had never read the journal, this decision would be easy. Had Kenevar saved any other child, this decision would be easy – but he saved Riddick, and apparently the granddaughter has saved Riddick's life once as well. The Alpha feels a debt to these people. If we execute Kenevar…I fear we will lose the Alpha forever. I am not daring to negate the massacre, or the turmoil we've undergone to rebuild the race, but Riddick is so important to our cause. If the council feels we must continue with our current course, however, I will defer to your wisdom."

All eyes were on the Beacon, and she bowed her head reverently. Despite Shirah's youth in comparison to the elders, all of whom were decades older than she was, the woman's abilities were treated with great respect. That respect had been hers from the night of the massacre, when Amalia had given birth to her and Shirah had given birth to the light.

Then, in her childhood, she had begun to have visions of lost Furyans. When these lost ones returned, they each reported seeing visions of a young Furyan girl bidding them to be restored to the fold. Some had been off-planet during the massacre, and had yet to return, fearing for their lives. Others had been gone for much longer, traveling and seeking their fortunes, yet all felt the pull as sure as the tide – and it was all because of Shirah.

Her powers had only grown over time, and her strength was undisputable. When she was old enough, Shirah had been unanimously chosen to lead her settlement.

After several long moments of deep thought, Kwoth spoke for them all.

"If we look to Kenevar's past deeds, we cannot let him live."

He looked to the group, holding up a hand before anyone could interrupt,

"But if we look to Shirah's visions," he continued, "we cannot kill him."

Again the elders sat in silence, pondering this impossible conundrum.

"Perhaps there is a way to do both," said Evan, one of the elders chosen from the Hawk tribe, with a twitch of his aquiline nose.

His twin brother, Nathan nodded, knowing exactly where Evan was headed.

"Yes," Nathan continued, picking up where Evan had left off, "There was an ancient civilization that lived on Earth – the Greeks. They found the shedding of blood to be uncivilized. This obviously created problems in the execution of criminals. So they came up with a very creative solution."

"Conium maculatum," Evan concluded, "Hemlock poison. The condemned was made to drink it, and they died once it was metabolized. It's not the most discreet poison there is, but it certainly does the job." As the twins spoke, it was clear that everyone was in agreement with this suggestion.

Kwoth nodded, "we could bring him here to administer the poison and then let the Elementals go. Kenevar would die on the journey back to Elementium, Riddick and the granddaughter would be appeased, and no one has any blood on their hands - other than that which has already been shed."

Ever the voice of reason, Shirah spoke.

"Not much grows here in the Fall, and certainly not Hemlock. Seems rather obvious too. What if he won't drink it, or he informs his people of what's been done?"

Chae shook her head,

"That man is all too familiar with shame – he'll do whatever we ask. We should summon Demetrius," she suggested.

Shirah nodded and stepped outside to do so. Sending out a mental call, she summoned Demetrius, and after a pause, she called for Jasmine as well.

Jasmine sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"Looks like I've been summoned – again."

Mattathias frowned and nodded from his place beside her. They'd been sitting back-to-back in a field, taking a moment for themselves and catching up on a lot of lost time.

"Will you come back if I let you go this time?" he smirked as Jasmine rolled her eyes at him.

"I guess I deserved that. Yes, I had planned to come back. In the meantime though – maybe you should go talk to your brother."

Her betrothed stiffened noticeably. After all, the only meaningful interaction the half-brothers had experienced was at knifepoint. The young man stood to his feet and crossed his arms.

"I don't really have much to say to him."

"You had plenty to say when you thought he was a threat." Jasmine bit her lip, being careful not to cross the line any further. "I'm just saying," she continued, "our past is so full of loose ends. So many of our people will never receive any closure. You've been given a gift. I doubt Riddick will be with us much longer, and you've got a chance to get some closure before he goes."

Mattathias shrugged, "If you say so, Beloved." He ruffled her hair briefly, then left to do as she asked.

Jasmine watched him go for a moment, then began the trek up Shirah's hill.

The Beacon was standing with Demetrius when Jasmine arrived. The man looked a bit troubled, but resolute. After a moment, he ducked inside of Shirah's lodge to go and speak with the elders. As Jasmine approached, Shirah tilted her head inquisitively.

"You look different, Sister," she smiled, "I wondered where you ran off to last night, but I suppose I have my answer."

"You made me come up here just so you could tell me that?"

Shirah took a step back, surprised at Jasmine's forthrightness.

"I'm not allowed to seek support from my family?"

"What do you need?" Jasmine asked, puffing a short burst of air through her nostrils.

"We've received some important news about Kenevar."

"Ah – the journal. I'd been wondering what was in it."

Shirah quickly summarized what Jack had read. Jasmine was properly shocked.

"You're not going to let him live are you? This was probably his last ditch effort to save his own life. He had to know that Jack would be caught, and he was willing to risk _her_ life. Does he even know that she was killed? How can we trust this?"

Shirah let Jasmine have her say before she responded.

"The Elemental will still die. We just have to take a different course."

After hearing of the elders' new solution, Jasmine was still displeased.

"This 'discreetness' as you call it, won't do us any good! You'll allow our people to believe that a traitor, a murderer has gone free, all to beguile Riddick? If I know one thing about the Alpha, he cuts to the quick. It might be enough to fool Jack, but Riddick will see right through the lies. What then?"

"If he is the man I think he is, he will accept our decision. He understands the balance of death and life as well as any of us. Riddick will be satisfied - as long as Jack is kept ignorant, and she will be."

Shirah reached out to hug her.

"Be glad, Sister. Justice will be served. Does it matter how?"

"I suppose not," Jasmine finally replied, looking over Shirah's shoulder as Demetrius stepped out of the Beacon's lodge. He held her gaze momentarily, then turned purposefully toward the woods.

"Where is he going?" Jasmine asked quietly.

"To pick flowers."

"In the Fall?"

"They only bloom in the Fall."

Jasmine was clearly nonplussed that Shirah had suddenly waxed cryptic, but thought better of pressing the matter. As Shirah stepped back into her tent, Jasmine took her leave.

"No! You can't take him!" Jack yelled as the guards came for her grandfather.

She had no weapon, but that did not stop her from striking out, punching the male sentry squarely in the jaw. Luckily, the soldiers had strict orders to harm no one, so he merely plucked the young woman off the ground and set her aside, out of the way. She would have flown at the sentry again, but Kenevar quickly placed his hand on her shoulder.

That silent rebuke was enough to calm Jack down. The other Elementals voiced their own protests, but no one else stood in the guards' way. Kenevar went with them quietly, his arms bound in chains.

Once the party had made the trek up to Shirah's lodge, they stopped just outside the door. Shirah had come out to meet them.

"Loose his chains," she said imperiously.

The guards did so, and Kenevar rubbed his arms once they were free. Shirah beckoned him to follow her into her lodge. There he was met by the rest of the council of elders and Demetrius, who was holding a small, delicate jar full of citron-colored liquid.

As Kenevar came into the room, Shirah reached for a pitcher of wine, pouring a generous glass. Once the Elemental was seated, she gestured toward Demetrius's jar.

"If memory serves me, you're a Water Elemental. Is that correct?" Shirah asked Kenevar benignly as a grimacing Demetrius handed over the jar and its contents.

"Yes."

"Can you tell what this is?" she asked as she extended the jar toward him.

Kenevar touched the outside of the jar for a moment. He shuddered slightly as he ascertained the toxic contents.

Shirah smiled, mildly impressed.

"Very good. It's called Colchicine. It comes from the Autumn Crocus."

She swirled the jar before the light, and the liquid grew a shade darker.

"In small doses, it's used to treat Gout. Larger doses, though – well, they're lethal."

Making sure to hold the Elemental's gaze, Shirah removed the lid from the jar and emptied the contents into the glass of wine she'd already poured.

"You're a very lucky man, Kenevar Anselm. Hundreds of our people, thousands even, died horrible, agonizing deaths because of you, but you'll get to go peacefully."

She reached for a spoon and stirred the liquid.

"You'll just fall off to sleep. It'll be almost – natural, like the elderly tend to go."

She thrust the glass into Kenevar's hand.

"Drink it. Tell no one – and be glad we've shown you such mercy. You know you deserve none."

Kenevar looked strangely tranquil, cupping the goblet in both hands. After a pause, he brought it to his lips, drank the mixture to the last drop, and handed the glass back to Shirah. He smiled bitterly.

"If you were going for discreet, it may seem rather suspicious for me to suddenly die after leaving here."

"It won't be sudden," Shirah returned the smile, "and you won't be here. We've decided to let you and your entourage return home, on the condition that we never see another member of your race on our planet again."

"So you aim to let Riddick and my granddaughter think that you've let me live."

"Our aims are not your concern, Elemental."

The Furyan council grimly nodded their assent as Shirah stood to her feet, motioning for Kenevar to do the same. He did, and at her command, he turned to go.

"Oh, Kenevar," Shirah spoke a final time, calling him back.

When he turned to look at her, she reeled back and struck him hard across the mouth. A small line of blood trickled down, dropping onto Kenevar's robes.

"We can't have them thinking we called you here for nothing," the Beacon concluded with a serenity that was beyond eerie.

Kenevar raised a testing hand to his lip, wiping away a drop of blood. He said nothing further, stepping out of the tent. To his surprise, no guards waited there. After looking around and seeing no one, he began the walk back to the makeshift prison. Further surprises awaited him there. His people, including Jack, were standing outside of the longhouse, all looking bewildered.

They were not alone. The news had preceded Kenevar, and Furyan citizens were quickly forming an angry mob, or perhaps just a lynch mob. The sentries herded the Elementals into a dense group, forming an essential barrier between them and the rest of the Furyans. The sentries and guards clearly found the work distasteful, though, as many Furyan hands managed to break through the barrier, striking the nearest Elemental.

"Opa, what's happening?" Jack asked in a near panic. "Have they decided to kill us all?"

The fervor grew louder as the Furyans began grabbing rocks and pitching them at the clustered Elementals. Soon, Riddick, Jasmine and the Chrism/Naveen clan made their way into the square. Riddick looked through the crowd and saw Jack in the center, huddled near her grandfather. Jasmine looked through the crowd and saw her Furies moving forward toward the sentries. She and Riddick both drew their weapons and stepped forward, though they had entirely separate motives.

"Fellow Furyans!"

The noise stopped instantly as Kwoth spoke. He was accompanied by Shirah and the other elders.

"Stand aside and let the Elementals pass."

Kwoth was met with thunderous cries of both disbelief and intense outrage. He held up his hands and the people quieted again.

"_All_ will be explained. Let them pass."

The sentries broke into columns then, making a pathway for the Elementals to walk through. Amidst the continued outcry, the bewildered visitors walked toward the gorge, and back toward their ship. On the outside of the improvised pathway and the crowd, Riddick strode along, keeping pace with Jack and Kenevar. When Kenevar saw the Alpha Furyan, he leaned down and spoke to his granddaughter. Her eyes snapped to lock with Riddick's.

She cast one last look at her grandfather and squeezed his hand. Then she disappeared from view. In the midst of the chaos, few noticed, but Jasmine saw. Her grip tightened on the handle of her weapon, but she stayed where she was.

Silently, Shirah moved away from the crowd, finding Mattathias and speaking to him briefly. He nodded, looking toward his mother's lodge. Shirah left then, following Riddick from afar as he walked back toward Ava's tent. When she reached it, she stepped inside without preamble. Riddick looked up, though not in surprise. Jack was standing there with him. She glared at Shirah, but said nothing.

Riddick's eyes narrowed.

"So that's it, huh? You've had it in for him for thirty years, and now you just let him go?"

Shirah met his level gaze, her face regal and impassive. She regarded Jack briefly, as if the younger woman were an afterthought.

"What noble revenge could be gained in killing a man whose days are already at an end? Hardly a worthy sacrifice for a people as great as ours. Even Furyans believe in balance, young Elemental," Shirah sneered, lowering a pack from her shoulders.

She tossed the bag toward Riddick's feet. He caught it with one hand. Glancing at Jack again, Shirah asked,

"I presume she's going to stay?"

"Yeah," was Riddick's succinct reply, "with me. We're leavin' now though."

"If you leave now, you'll miss your brother's wedding," Shirah stated, her voice taking on a saccharine sweetness.

Riddick glanced up as the flaps of Ava's tent parted and Mattathias stepped in. This time he _was_ surprised. Mattathias was as well, when he saw an Elemental standing with them. He cleared his throat.

"Our family would be honored if you stood with me," the young healer said hesitantly. "It would make…our…mother happy as well."

Riddick looked between Mattathias and Shirah, clearly trapped. After a moment, he nodded brusquely.

Shirah's nod was crisp, and she abruptly grabbed the pack from its place in front of Riddick.

"Since we're apparently going to be stuck with you," Shirah seethed, addressing the younger woman, "you need to change your clothes. None of us wants to spend the day looking at your fucking Elemental's costume."

With a heave, Shirah tossed the bag at Jack. The Elemental caught it in both arms and was forced to take a step back to minimize the force. Everyone stepped out so the girl could have a moment to change.

Once they were outside, Riddick took a curious look at his half-brother.

"You had all that time to talk to me during that ad hoc family reunion earlier," Riddick drawled. "Funny you didn't mention this before."

He was looking at Shirah now, and it was clear that he did not think Mattathias had acted alone.

Mattathias blinked, but he stood strong.

"I thought it might upset you to know that Jasmine chose me."

Recognition dawned in Riddick's eyes.

_Forgot about all that_.

He looked at Shirah expectantly, and after an exasperated sigh, the woman walked out of earshot.

"Look kid, I don't know anything about being a role model or anyone's 'big brother', but this shit is gettin' old. Let's clear the air. I never touched her – I never tried," Riddick stated. _Except for that one time - or two_, he thought humorously, thinking it best to keep Mattathias ignorant. "You assumed a hell of a lot about a situation that was never about you – or me. You know that woman's got her share of baggage," he went on to say. "But I figure you were the only choice."

The two men stood face-to-face.

"I've killed a lot of people - seen a lot of people die. Haven't seen many who would die _for_ me, though. And there's even fewer _I'd_ die for." He looked back toward Ava's tent. "I figure those are the one's you're supposed to keep close. And you and me've got totally different people in mind."

Mattathias nodded decisively, putting out his hand for Riddick to grasp.

"Good to know."

Once the Elementals were safely ensconced in their ship, the Furyan mob began to disperse. With no one to guard, the sentries returned to their own lodges, awaiting their next assignments. Demetrius stood some distance back from the mob, arms crossed. It was impossible to tell what he thought. When Jasmine looked up the hill and saw him, she thought she saw disgust in his eyes.

Jasmine shook her head, smoothing the front of her clothes. She could certainly understand that. Quickly she scanned the crowd, and soon her curiosity was satisfied. Behind Ava Chrism's tent she saw the young Elemental standing quietly, watching her grandfather's ship lift-off and fly away. She'd ditched her other clothes, but it was certainly her.

"I see you've finally realized your place."

Jasmine whirled at the sound of the accusing voice and was shocked to see her father standing there. In the rush of the past days' events, she had forgotten all about their ongoing feud.

"Nahuel," she breathed, though she stood firm. "I think you've forgotten. I'm the child you _don't_ speak to."

Nahuel smirked, and the crow's feet at his eyes crinkled further.

"I don't need to speak to you to ensure that you do what you're told. Mattathias is a good match. It's good that you've come around to reason."

Jasmine eyes widened, and subconsciously, her hand went to her fanblade. As if by magic, she felt Shirah's hand on hers, and Jasmine loosened her grip on the weapon.

"Hello father," Shirah smiled, rushing to break the tension. "Mattathias and I actually hadn't had the chance to inform Jasmine."

"Inform me of what?"

Before Jasmine could become angry, Shirah grasped her arm to steer her away from Nahuel. Jasmine planted her feet and refused to move until she'd said,

"You chose Mattathias because he comes from a good family. I chose him because he is nothing like you. I don't want you anywhere near my wedding. _Demetrius_ is going to give me away."

As Nahuel stood in silent shock at her outburst, Jasmine finally allowed Shirah to lead her through camp to Demetrius's tent.

The man was seated when they came in, looking blankly at a set of clipboards. He sighed softly when Shirah came in, but he managed a smile for Jasmine's sake.

"Baba, you look tired," Jasmine said, going to his side.

"I am."

"I know it has been difficult for you, but you've done your people a great service," Shirah said gratefully.

The elder man nodded his assent, then stood.

"What would you ask of me now?"

Shirah smiled, attempting to be considerate.

"No great task. I wanted to collect the item we spoke about some months ago."

At that, Demetrius's eyes lit up.

"Oh, yes. One moment," he smiled, grabbing a small pair of shears and walking into the back of his tent. When he returned, it was Jasmine's turn to be surprised. He held a beautiful white flower. The sweet scent quickly permeated the room.

"Is that what I think it is?" the younger woman asked, perplexed. The only place she'd ever seen the flower was in a book.

"It's a Jasmine blossom. They haven't bloomed wild on our planet since before the massacre. Demetrius has been experimenting, trying to recreate conditions to bring back some of our indigenous foliage."

She walked over to Demetrius, retrieved the flower, and brought it closer so Jasmine could see it.

"You remember why I gave you this name."

Jasmine nodded quickly,

"It was mother's favorite flower."

Jasmine had known for some time that after her birth, her mother had not lived long enough to give her a name. She also knew that her father had been furious when Shirah had suggested naming her after Amalia's favorite flower. It had been yet another symbol of death in their lives, but to Jasmine, it was one of few things that connected her to her mother.

"You're right," Shirah agreed, "But there's another reason. Jasmine flowers only bloom at night. They're at their most beautiful in their darkest hour."

Thoughtfully, she tucked the blossom into Jasmine's hair.

"Our lives have been full of darkness, but baby sister, it has made you _so_ strong."

Jasmine gave her sister a watery smile, reaching up gingerly to touch the flower in her hair.

"This is what you and Mattì wanted to tell me?"

The Beacon was suddenly brought back to the moment.

"Actually, I have ulterior motives for giving you this. We have a proposition for you. You still wish to marry Mattathias?"

Jasmine replied with an emphatic 'yes.'

"How would you feel if that happened a little sooner than you'd planned?"

* * *

**Epilogue to follow...soon, I promise!**


	23. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE: All's Well That Ends Well...or Begins**

At dawn, a great company stood on a hill side. They were grouped together, facing five people who stood just in front of the cluster. Riddick was one of the five. Standing beside his brother and clothed in linen, he felt vastly uncomfortable. Despite his days as Lord Marshall, he would never get used to feeling so many eyes upon him.

Across from him, Yoti stood at Jasmine's side, a floral garland adorning her short hair. Shirah stood at the head of the group, facing the rest of the company. She was dressed as she always was, but there was an air of happiness about her that was seldom seen.

Shirah always cut an impressive figure, but today, all eyes were on Jasmine. Clothed in a dress of bleached linen, with white jasmine flowers weaved into her braided hair, she caught the sunlight at every turn.

All eyes were on her, but her attention was devoted to the man at her left. Mattathias held her hand tightly, and his smile rivaled the sun for light.

Jack leaned against a tree at the entrance to the woods. Though her Ether abilities would allow her to get as close to the ceremony as she liked, she felt the need to stay back. Her eyes darted about, but spent most of their time admiring Riddick. She'd never seen him dressed in anything but black; the wedding finery suited him. It was entertaining too. Riddick kept scratching his neck at the collar and pulling at the shirt's sleeves.

From her place, she saw Shirah produce a strip of dark blue cloth and wind it about the entwined hands of the bride and groom. After the deed was complete, the Beacon stepped back.

"Our people are one, as you are," Shirah proclaimed, and the people gathered gave a loud cheer as Jasmine and Mattathias shared an embrace.

In an instant, the new couple was swarmed by well-wishers. Nahuel was nowhere among them. Shirah stood back, enjoying the gleeful throng. Riddick stepped back immediately to keep from being overwhelmed by people. He caught Shirah's eye, but she quickly looked away, turning her back.

Ava and Mattathias's father had managed to press their way through to the front. After greeting her youngest son, she broke free and came to stand before Riddick. She cast a knowing glance toward the woods, though there was nothing to be seen.

"Your father had that look as well. He was never content to be still for long."

She wrapped her arms around Riddick's neck, and smiled when she felt him return the embrace.

"Be well, my son. I hope you heart leads you back to us someday."

Riddick nodded.

"Right now, Jack's got her heart set on gettin' her friend, Kyra back – even though she'll have to find a way into the underworld to do it. Maybe after –"

Ava smiled.

"There's no rush. Family is forever." After one final hug, she stepped back into the crowd of wedding guests.

Riddick stood briefly, watching the company. Eventually he noticed that Shirah was watching him. When he inclined his head, she began walking towards him. He took several steps forward and met her halfway.

"It looks like we have a dilemma," Shirah said after a moment. "Nothing will make you stay - and nothing will change my mind. I supposed I'll simply have to wait until you change yours."

Riddick shrugged, leaning down so he could speak into her ear.

"I'm not fit to be anybody's father – _or_ anybody's king."

Shirah sighed, looking away from him, but then he concluded, "I did leave some…samples…with your scientist, though. What happens to 'em after the fact's got nothin' to do with me."

Shirah frowned, raising one eyebrow in confusion, but then she froze as understanding dawned. She tongued the inside of her cheek, laughing softly, but kept her retorts to herself.

Riddick took that as her final word, and turned to leave.

"Goodbye, Jo'el."

He stopped short when Shirah used his birth name, but there was no anger in the look he gave her. They regarded each other for one last moment, then Riddick strode into the woods. He stopped briefly, and Shirah knew why when Jack suddenly became visible again.

The two turned and left, walking toward the gorge and Riddick's ship. Shirah's gaze turned back to the wedding celebration, which had begun in earnest, then back to Riddick's retreating figure. A smile came to her lips, and of its own volition, her hand moved absently to rest upon her abdomen.

_THE END_

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**_And that's it - for now at least!_**

**_HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED IT!_**


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